A Lotus for Severus
by kittyperry
Summary: Do not rule out the power of love, for there is great love in your life. A maiden as beautiful as a lotus bloom, a maiden as fragrant as an exotic perfume is in your future. Your love is a flower, waiting to be embraced at right time.
1. Chapter 1

**A Lotus for Severus**

(i) The characters and world of Harry Potter are the property of the marvelous J.K. Rowling. I make no money from this.

(ii) Please read and review. I would love to know what you think of the story.

(iii) They have made some format changes at in order to fix some of the more freakish glitches. One of the new changes is review replies now come as private messages. If you have that feature turned off, writers can no longer thank you for your review. So if you'd like me to respond to your reviews, please check your settings!

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><p><strong>Part I<strong>

**A meeting at a graveyard**

Severus Snape's only clear memory of his great aunt Elsabeth was when he met her at the age of thirteen at his mother's funeral. He remembered her because she was the only one of the Princes' who had bothered to show up. Even his grandparents had not attended the rainy, gloomy, pitiful burial that took place in the ill-kept churchyard of St. Paul's Church, Gorton, South Manchester. Gorton that had long been the ghetto of Manchester, rife with crime and poverty and the grimy, squalid streets filled with jobless, angry, desperate people.

His great aunt Elsabeth had, however, made the journey up from Surrey and had laid her hand on his arm and said bracingly, "Be strong. Your mother will always be with you if you trust in the power of love."

Even as a thirteen year old, Severus had been jaded and disillusioned and he had merely shrugged at the old woman's deluded words of comfort.

She had then looked at him searchingly and said, "Do not rule out the power of love, my boy, for there is great love in your life. A maiden as beautiful as a lotus bloom, a maiden as fragrant as an exotic perfume is in your future. I can see it clearly. Your love is a flower, waiting to be embraced at the right time."

He had thought of those words often. When his love for Lily turned from that of childish infatuation to a more physical attraction, he thought, _Lily is a bloom, a flower, it must be her. There is no one else that I want with the name of a flower_.

All through his younger years, he had waited for his exotic bloom to notice him. But when she rejected him, refused to forgive him for a misspoken word, he had given up all hopes of love.

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><p>AN: Love it or hate it, please let me know what you think.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part II**

**The Lotus Bloom**

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><p>(i) The characters and world of Harry Potter are the property of the marvellous J.K. Rowling. I make no money from this.<p>

(ii) Thank you for your generous reviews. Please do continue to read and review. I love getting to know what you think of the story.

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><p>Padma Patil unlike her twin sister was a Ravenclaw. And for this reason, Severus had never been unduly harsh or cruel to her. Instead, her first year Potions class had seen her fall in love with the art of Potions. Moreover, that opening speech her Professor made about the magic of potions had slithered its way into her heart and she had fallen in love with the man as well, captivated by the passion and the purity of emotion that was in his face and voice. Of course, she hadn't realised it was love just then. Instead, unlike others, she had quickly made Potions her favourite lesson and had left it at that. The assignments had been fascinating, and together with her lab-mate Morag McDougal, they had felt the benevolent side of the taciturn professor. It helped too that Morag found Professor Snape just as brilliant a teacher. They both basked in knowing what he was talking about, in working together to perfect their assignments, in learning from a Master the subtle art of potions.<p>

Morag had been Padma's best friend from the very first night in Ravenclaw Tower. A pureblood like Padma, they had much in common. Their families, though prescribing to the need to preserve their slowly dying heritage were also forced to admit mixed blood into their kin. So when one night after a particularly interesting lesson Morag had whispered in confession that her father said Professor Snape was a Death Eater, just as he had been, Padma listened wide-eyed. There had been rumours of course that he was a Dark wizard, but this just made him more attractive to the imaginings of Padma's romantic young heart.

The two friends continued to work together and often talked about their growing love of potions, of their mutual discovery into the power that elixirs and pastes had to heal and change. With their love of potions and its power came an awareness of the undoubted brilliance of their master. Morag found him frightening though; she had heard stories of Professor Snape's brilliance at making undetectable poisons from her father, who had said he was one she should never cross. Padma just listened. For her, Professor Snape's ability to frighten a man as powerful as Angus McDougal, just made him all the more fascinating and worthy of respect.

When the second year came, Padma looked with even more fascination at the former Death Eater. He was so elegant and assured as he glided up and down the aisles of the classroom. His carriage was so upright, his stalk like that of the pictures she had seen of the big cats prowling through the Bengal jungles. She was entranced. No man had ever dazzled her sensibilities so decisively. Even as her twin mooned foolishly over the fop Lockhart, Padma quietly admired the dark man. Seeing him best Lockhart at the duel merely cemented her conviction that no other man could match the Potions master in sheer presence and power. He was everything a man should be.

Indian pureblood girls were taught about marriage from a very young age. Why, her mother had been betrothed to her father, a man fifteen years her senior, at the tender age of thirteen and had been a bride at fifteen as was customary in high-caste well-to-do families. Since summer, her mother had been speaking of finding them suitable partners from families in India, but Parvati's tears at not leaving her friends or finishing school and her father's pragmatic insistence that for a successful life in Britain, a complete education was an essential commodity had quietly brought that conversation to a close. But as the girls had whispered together about what they wanted in a potential husband, and Padma as always, the practical one despite being named after a lotus, had drawn up a list, she had realised that the attributes she had listed pointed immediately, at least in her mind, to Professor Snape. Whereas Parvati wanted a blond, handsome _gora_ or white boy, someone popular and fun-loving, Padma wanted someone mature, dark, intense, intelligent and well read.

Padma was no fool. When she realised she had feelings for her professor, she did everything she could to hide them from her house-mates, fellow students, as well as her twin-sister and the rest of her family. She knew it would bring her nothing but grief.

But this did not mean that her attraction faded. She watched him as surreptitiously as possible. And as her sexuality slowly matured, the only man she dreamed about was him. She would whisper his name into the silence of her four poster bed as she explored her body, recalling his deep and sensual voice as he lectured. It was his sinuous stalk that slithered its way into her mind as she dreamt of her first kiss and brought herself to culmination. As third year drew to a close and she learned through her sister's Gryffindor gossip of his bravery in standing in front of a transforming werewolf, she realised she was deeply, irrevocably in love. It was not rational or logical, but he was the only one who made her feel this way. She had tried looking at the other older boys; hoping one of them would divert her growing attraction for the dark man. But no one else would do. She was coming to suspect they might not ever do.

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><p>AN: Love it or hate it, please let me know what you think.


	3. Chapter 3

**Part III**

**The Yule Ball**

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><p>(i) The characters and world of Harry Potter are the property of the marvellous J.K. Rowling. I make no money from this.<p>

(ii) Thank you for your generous reviews. Please do continue to read and review. I love getting to know what you think of the story.

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><p>In her fourth year, Padma accepted the date arranged for her by Parvati with the foolish Ronald Weasley. It was better to be seen with him than to be noted for never having been seen with a boy. The more she did to distract her sister's attention from the person she secretly desired, the better. Even though they were in different houses, there was something about being a twin that allowed them to know each other's heart. She knew Parvati suspected that she was attracted to someone. There was no denying it. She could try, but it would only lead to a fight. Instead, redirecting that suspicion would be much easier. Her sister for all their similarities was a far more straightforward girl. Besides which, Padma worried for she knew there was no saying what her Gryffindor twin would do if she discovered that her twin was now bringing herself to orgasm by imagining her Potion Master's pale and supple hands caressing her young, virginal body.<p>

The night of the Yule ball was the first time Padma had ever been singled out by Snape. After the fiasco with Ronald, when he had deserted her when he saw Hermione on the arm of Viktor Krum, Padma thankfully had drifted off into a quiet corner. She was not hurt, just relieved that she didn't have to pretend to any kind of attraction to the red-head. It was as she sighed in relief and made her way to the window-seat that she came across her professor. He too seemed to be hiding from the crowd.

He looked up as she neared his hide-away. "No tears, Miss Patil?" he asked snidely.

She smiled. She was coming to see beyond his hurtful words. "None, sir, just relieved. I didn't want to come with him, but it was easier than trying to get out of the arrangement made for me by Parvati."

Her comment seemed to please the professor. The corner of his mouth raised slightly into a curl. "Well, I'll leave you to enjoy a Weasley-free evening in that case," he said, standing up.

Feeling bold, suddenly not wanting the moment of their first ever non-school related conversation to end, she said quickly, "Please don't go."

Snape stilled. Then, he really looked at her and raised his eyebrow. Taking it for the question it was, she continued with a blush. "There aren't that many places to disappear into in the Great Hall. I don't want to drive you from your retreat and I promise not to disturb your solitude." She paused and then quickly added the pre-requisite, "Sir," to the end of her sentence.

Snape stared at her for a long moment. Then seeming to come to a decision he re-took his seat in the recessed window.

She smiled in pleased relief. "Is it okay if I stay here, sir?" she asked softly. "I just don't want to get dragged onto the floor by Parvati. She's on a mission to show the boys she's having a good time without them."

Snape's lips twitched momentarily. It thrilled her that he was talking to her, that she had been able to amuse him.

"If you must," he said grumpily, but she could tell that he wasn't really annoyed.

Smiling, she took a seat on the opposite end of the recess, the floor-length drapes hiding her completely from view once she had settled herself on the broad ledge and drawn her knees up to her chin. She starred out onto the courtyard, allowing the music, muffled by the thick drapes to lull her into utter tranquillity. She could not believe her good fortune. To spend even a little bit of time with the man she had come to love so ardently was a gift beyond measure. She knew from Morag that her father was terribly worried about the possible return of the Dark Lord. Ravenclaw had a number of former Death Eaters, and many knew that their fathers would have to once more bow to the Dark Lord if he managed to return. You could not leave his service even if you wanted to. She wondered how her professor was dealing with the possible change that was approaching. She knew, of course, that it was unlikely that he would ever notice her. This she realised was the closest she was going to get to being with him alone.

Severus was surprised at the quiet girl who had come to share his window-ledge. She was like nothing he had expected of his fourth-year students. He had observed her skill in Potions, her quiet yet focused attention to detail, but to him, students were nothing more than a nuisance to be borne. Slytherins had to be handled with all possible care for the tales they could carry back, Gryffindors were the bane of his existence, their inability to realise the consequences of their sheer arrogance and stupidity a constant source of worry. Hufflepuffs never even made it onto his radar, they did their work, they kept their heads down in his class and that was all that mattered to him. If he had ever had a favourite house, he supposed it was the Ravenclaws. They tended to be a bit too cold, a bit too clinical in their approach to life, but they were smart, appreciated his attention to detail and they never made trouble in class. They read their textbooks before turning up, always did their homework and generally didn't cause him undue worry. They even on occasion provided competent assistance in the gathering, processing and storing of ingredients and the brewing of simple infirmary potions. It was the Ravenclaws who got letters of recommendation to go on to learn in-depth brewing at St. Mungo's and other research facilities. Slytherins might have wanted to learn about Potions, but they weren't really willing to do the grunt work required at St. Mungo's. They wanted letters of introduction and recommendation to the Potion Masters of the World. Snape provided this with gratitude. He was just thankful none of them wanted to continue with him. He couldn't have lived with a more mature spy at Hogwarts. The brats were bad enough.

None of his former students had wanted to spend time with him though. Despite their respect, they had always kept their distance. Thus, to find a student who was willing to share his company was a surprise. He knew that all four houses disliked his harshness. Some may have understood, even appreciated his skills, his dedication to his art, but no house found him pleasant. They all resented his penchant for deducting House points, his vitriol when marking assignments and his impatience. So Snape observed the obviously young woman before him. He wondered what she was up to. _Surely she must want something_, he thought or there would be no reason to suck up to him. But as she continued to sit so quietly gazing out on to the snow-covered courtyard Severus realised that she was not trying to garner his attention or indeed, somehow involve him in conversation. She really seemed to want nothing more than to sit in quite companionship, away from the frenzy that was the post-dinner half of the Yule Ball.

Surprised, delighted, he allowed himself to ease back into his own thoughts. It was unexpectedly nice to not have to be entirely alone, even as he enjoyed the quiet. Surreptitiously, so as not to draw her attention, though he soon realised that she was not likely to notice, Snape allowed himself for the first time to take in the details of the young woman before him. Even though she was curled into herself, hugging her knees and resting her chin on her crossed arms, he could see the dark silk of her long hair. She was dressed beautifully in an exotic turquoise silk sari, gold bangles pushed up her arms so that they didn't jangle on her wrists which were slim and delicate. She looked so young, so utterly ingénue that Snape suddenly felt wrong-footed. What was he doing allowing his gaze to take in her delicate, exotic beauty. Only he knew the darkness that resided in his heart. Had he not just spoken heatedly with Kakaroff? The Dark Lord would soon be amidst them once more. He was sure of it.

And yet, this moment of quiet, with a young, innocent beauty, who had willingly chosen to remain in his company was a balm to his tortured and fractured soul. For too long, no one had wanted to even be with him simply to enjoy the quiet. Everyone had always wanted something from him, even, his beloved Lily.

The painful thoughts made him frown and he turned once more to stare out onto the courtyard.

Padma too had surreptitiously been observing her professor. She had watched as he had examined her in minute detail and had watched his for once unguarded face as he allowed his thoughts to etch themselves on to his visage. Seeing his frown, she was unable to stop herself from looking up.

Their eyes met briefly and they both suddenly felt the moment take on an unexpected importance. Snape was startled. He had never allowed himself to feel such a connection with a student. Wanting to leave, he moved once more to stand up.

Padma could see that she had merely by gazing into his eyes upset her private professor. She didn't know when she would ever get such an opportunity again. Drawing on her sister's Gryffindor trait, she boldly extended her hand and placed it on his arm.

Snape starred at her in astonishment. No student had ever touched him before. Not like this, not deliberately.

Padma too starred at her hand touching him arm. Allowing her eyes to reflect her shock at her bold move, she said as quietly as if approaching a unicorn. "Please don't go. I was enjoying just sitting here with you."

Severus felt confused. How could he provide enjoyment to a student by doing nothing but sharing a darkened alcove? "What on earth do you mean?" He didn't sound like his usual snide and sarcastic self. At that moment, he sounded young, unsure, not like the Death Eater he knew he was.

She sighed. She was only fourteen and suddenly this conversation, this moment had become the most important in her life. "It means, sir, that I was finding your presence a comfort. It is hard to just be, in the moment, if you see what I'm trying to say. But sitting here in the dark, with the music playing beyond, felt peaceful. And I'm sure having you for company helped. It made me feel as though I wasn't alone, that enjoying the solitude was not so bad because you were enjoying it, too."

Severus nodded. He didn't really understand what she meant exactly, but it was not offensive. Silently, he retook his seat, and for the remainder of the evening until the last song was played, they sat there, together, watching the snow fall, listening to the slow, romantic music draw its magical spell upon them. When the last song ended and a hush fell on the hall before the sound of conversation and feet filled the hall, Padma slowly uncurled herself.

Snape still sat has he had all evening. He did not move. He did not acknowledge her presence.

She had never realised how awkward he was in company. He had always to her seemed supremely in control. She realised then that he was actually not good with people. She smiled gently at him. His awkwardness endeared him to her more than he would ever know.

"Thank you for a wonderful evening," she said quietly.

He seemed slightly startled at her acknowledgement as he met her gaze. She could clearly see that he thought she was mocking him.

Drawing once more on her sister's supposed trait of bravery, she continued. "I really enjoyed sitting here with you, sir."

Snape did not respond, but he did not brush her away either.

Taking that as a good sign, she decided to make the most of this golden opportunity given to her. She knew she might never be able to do so again. Standing up, she walked up to him, and slowly, making sure that he was still watching her actions, she gently kissed his cheek. "Happy Christmas, sir," she said tenderly.

She could see that he was overcome with astonishment and did not know how to behave. Realising that if she did not leave now he would revert back to snide and sarcastic to alleviate the moment of surprising intimacy, she quickly smiled one last time and slipped away. She didn't want him to spoil the most cherished evening of her life. She had spent time with the man she loved, and by the grace of the goddess, she had even managed under the guise of wishing him for the holidays, to steal a kiss. She foolishly grinned to herself and thought, _I can die happy_.

Once Miss Patil left Severus' side, the dark man continued to sit by the window. He didn't really understand what had happened, but he did realise that he had had a moment out of time. Such evenings of quietude, of actually comforting and enjoyable company were non-existent in his life. This, he thought was what being married should feel like, sharing a quiet evening by the fire, listening to soft music, reading a good book and knowing that the person sharing such pursuits with you was happy and content. He wished desperately then that he had been the kind of man who had been able to find someone to love and be loved by. In these dark times, he wanted, no, needed affection, companionship. Instead, all he had was revulsion, mistrust, hatred and loneliness. Miss Patil would never know it, but suddenly, her actions became the most cherished of his miserable life. For once, someone had wanted him for himself, for his company. She had wanted nothing from him, in fact, she had wished him well. _How strange_, thought Severus, _how marvellous that a young, beautiful woman would wish me well, would kiss me so tenderly_. He allowed his hand to stroke the cheek on which she had placed her so gentle of tokens. No one had ever kissed him so genuinely, so honestly. He wondered what he had ever done to deserve such a gracious and kind gesture. Shaking his head, he tried to put it out of his mind. He had more important things to focus on. Tomorrow he would have to report to Dumbledore about his conversation with Kakaroff.

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><p>AN: Love it or hate it, please let me know what you think.


	4. Chapter 4

**Part IV**

**A bond is formed**

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><p>(i) The characters and world of Harry Potter are the property of the marvellous J.K. Rowling. I make no money from this.<p>

(ii) Please read and review. I would love to know what you think of the story.

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><p>The fifth year brought Umbridge and the beginning of the DA. Padma joined with her sister. It was, she knew imperative that they prepare themselves for the coming war. Unlike others in her house, Padma believed Potter. He was dim, foolish, hot-headed, but he wasn't an attention seeker. And Padma liked Hermione Granger. She was smart and not one to be blinded by a glory-hound.<p>

Besides, Morag had told her all about the punishments her father had suffered at the Dark Lord's hands. The fact that he had never been discovered to be a Death Eater, that he could claim that he had stayed true, never mixing with those on Dumbledore's side was the one thing that had brought the broken man home after his meeting with the Dark Lord. It also helped, of course, that Morag's mother, Antonia was Greek and of pure blood, and Morag whispered that her father had said that he knew the Dark Lord was not willing to hurt him too much because he wanted to utilise Antonia's family connections in Greece.

Padma listened. She knew Morag was trusting her with these secrets, but she knew her friend had no one else to talk to. Morag's mother was not strong, and losing Morag's baby brother at childbirth had made her even more frail. Morag would never take her worries and fears to her parents. She was always the strong one for them.

Once she was sure Morag had finished talking, she'd quietly asked if Professor Snape had been there. Morag's eyes widened. She did not want to talk about what she had over-heard her parents discussing. She already feared she had said too much.

"You don't have to tell me," said Padma, reaching out to hold her friend's hand. "I just want to know if he was hurt like your father."

Morag sighed. "He suffered even more than my father. Da said that it was a wonder Snape was able to crawl back to Hogwarts' again. The fact that he was at the opening feast is a marvel. Da said he might still be in bed."

Padma nodded. "We'll have to take care not to upset him, then, in class."

Morag smiled a little. "You understand, don't you?"

Padma nodded. "These are difficult times. We have to be careful. We will have to learn to sit on the fence."

Morag squeezed her hand in gratitude and moved back onto her own four-poster.

Watching Morag's grateful eyes hurt. Padma knew that even as she said the words that allowed her friend some comfort, she could not live in a world made by Voldemort. He might accept purebloods like her, but she had cousins who had married well-to-do Muggles. The British-born Indian community was fairly small, the British-born Brahmin Hindu community even smaller. The Magical Brahmin community in Britain was miniscule. Intermarriage between Muggles, purebloods and halfbloods although not desired, was preferred in some families to marriage with non-Indians. Losing pureblood status was better for some than losing caste. She was just glad her family, despite her mother's traditional values were open to melange. But she took some comfort in the fact that her immediate family seemed to insist on magical marriages as opposed to Muggle or mixed blood ones. These days were not the kind of days in which to rock the boat.

However, joining the DA and learning about what was going on with the Death Eaters through Morag's patchy family letters were not the only things that happened to Padma in her fifth year. At fifteen, she came into her inheritance as a mature witch. She knew Parvati didn't bother with ancient family rituals, she had her heart set on the new, but Padma valued her roots. At fifteen women of her family were ready for marriage and with their coming of age, they were given access to women's magic. Magic her grandmother and great aunts had passed down to her mother, who had brought it with her to England. So besides working on her defensive magic in DA, Padma also studied the texts that her mother lent her. She knew her mother was pleased as punch that Padma was studying the ancient Sanskrit texts and was translating them into English, just as generations before her; others had translated them into Urdu and Panjabi as well as the other tongues of her ancestral homeland.

One night, as Padma made her way back from the library where she had been working on some translations for healing charms, she heard strange sounds. She was a prefect, so she didn't have curfew. Fear gripped her heart. It was late. But she knew it was her duty to discover what was going on. Perhaps someone needed help.

Trying to recall the bravery her sister was supposed to have, when she wanted to do nothing but run safely back to Ravenclaw Tower, she gripped her wand tightly in her hand and rounded the corner. What met her eyes made her gasp out loud, immediately capturing the attention of the man slumped against the wall in front of her.

"What are you doing here?" he said sharply. "Go back to Ravenclaw Tower or I'll be deducting points."

Padma did not heed his warning. She could see clearly that speaking had taken a lot out of him. She could see that his attempt at normality had actually cost him a great deal of effort. "I won't breathe a word to anyone, sir," she assured him, even as she approached him. "Are you hurt? Should I go for Madam Pomfrey?"

"No," he said shortly. She could see he was debating whether he should allow her to help him or not.

She didn't wait. Instead, she asked softly, "May I cast a diagnostic spell, sir?"

He sighed and raised his eyebrow in query.

"I've been learning healing charms, sir," she said softly, even as she began casting diagnostic spells in whispered tones. "It seemed like a good idea with the way things are going."

He nodded and allowed her to do what she was doing.

Once she was done, she nearly cried out in alarm. He had numerous cracked ribs, his right shoulder was dislocated, and he was bleeding copiously from a wound in his thigh. He was also trembling from nerve damage after being under the Cruciatis curse for a prolonged length of time. Nothing was terminal, but together, the pain was intense.

"The dungeons, sir?' she asked briskly. She knew that if she sounded worried or weak, he would send her packing. Brisk efficiency was more likely to get him to trust her.

"If we must,' he said snidely, but he was in too much pain for it to be potent.

She removed her tie from around her neck, and used it to tie a toque above his wound to slow down the bleeding. Then, offering her shoulder for him to lean on, she walked him to his chambers. She did not speak a word, just made sure that she kept vanishing the blood that dripped behind them, ensuring that there was no evidence of their passage.

He seemed surprised but pleased at her caution, and she did not halt when they reached his door. Instead, she pretended as though it was the most normal thing for her to follow her professor into his chambers, and walk with him until they reached his bedroom. Once he was there, she began to help him undress. "Don't bend," she said urgently, when he began to move to unbutton his robes. "Let me."

He quirked an eyebrow, but she ignored the sexy gesture that she had come to love over the years. Instead, she focused all of her attention on unbuttoning his robes, his frock coat, his waist coat and shirt until his torso was revealed. She tried not to think of the sexual connotations of undressing the man who had featured in all of her midnight fantasies. She tried to not think about other circumstances when this would have been so much more than helping him.

But her thoughts of sex and her state of arousal faded as she saw the bruises and scars on his body. She could not stop the gasp that escaped her then, but she continued with her mission.

"Enough," he exclaimed when she dropped to her knees to unlace his boots. But she just raised her eyes to meet his from her position on the floor. When he did nothing further, she kept on with her task.

He sighed but seemed resigned and surprisingly compliant as she carried on with her actions. That more than anything confirmed to her how much pain he was in.

Once the boots were unlaced, she gently lifted each of his feet and drew off the footwear. Once that was done she raised herself on her knees until her face was staring directly at his crotch and began to unbutton his wool trousers. She tried not to imagine what she would find. She knew she had to get him comfortable before she could do something about his still slightly bleeding wound.

"Miss Patil, enough," he said more firmly. She knew he was about to cast her out of his rooms.

"Don't be an idiot," she said as firmly as she could. "This must be done. It is better that I do it than you hurt yourself even more. And I won't tell anyone, I give you my word."

He groaned but allowed her to carry on.

The buttons were undone, and she removed her tie, and eased his trousers down his long legs. Once that was done, she helped him carefully lie on the bed. She did her best to not notice his tight black underwear. She also pretended not to notice the heightened colour in her professor's cheeks at her seeing him like this almost completely unclothed.

"Where are the first aid supplies?" she asked him, both to distract him and because she really needed to know.

"Bathroom cabinet," he said.

She wondered if he was in shock. This lack of resistance was starting to worry her. She couldn't understand how she had been allowed so much leeway. "I'll be back in a minute. Don't move," she said unnecessarily. She watched him roll his eyes at her as she turned away.

There was only one door other than the one they had entered through. Guessing that it was his loo, she quickly made her way there, and returned with the supplies.

Then, using her knowledge of healing, she cleaned his gaping thigh wound. The silence her professor maintained brought home to her that this was a pain he had grown accustomed to. She wondered how much he must suffer to bear such pain, because it must be torture to have the saline solution cleaning the raw wound.

"Was it a curse or a knife?" she asked.

"Curse," came the short reply.

"Right, in that case I can't use a spell to close it."

He nodded. He did not say anything, but he was glad she actually knew what she was doing.

He watched, trying to be impartial as she found the necessary equipment and began to stitch the wound together.

Once that was done, she quickly and expertly bandaged his thigh. She did not think about the fact that her hand was very, very close to his member, a member that, despite the intense pain she was inflicting upon him was hardening and lengthening with her proximity. She tried to ignore it, but it thrilled her secretly.

Once that was done, she then moved to tape his ribs, slot his shoulder back into place using a specific charm that she had learnt and then to rub bruise paste and burn paste on the scars and marks that were on his body.

Once she had done all she could with his front, she really looked at her professor. Her soft ministrations as she rubbed the different pastes on his body had lulled him into a doze. He looked exhausted. There were dark circles under his eyes. His hair was lank and he was slender to the point of near starvation. His collar bones looked sharp enough to cut and his ribs were clearly visible. She was consumed with worry. And yet, despite his appearance she still thought he was the handsomest man she had ever seen. There was whipcord strength in his body. Every line was of muscle, tight, compact and powerful.

Even as she admired him, she knew he needed all the rest he could get. She didn't want to disturb him, but she had to make sure that there were no more cuts or bruises on his back.

Gently, she stroked him hand, trying not to look at the dark mark that was on his arm.

"Professor. Severus. Please, wake up."

Severus woke to the sound of his name. His eyes immediately opened, and his arm prepared to summon his wand, even as he geared himself for attack.

But when he saw the slightly dishevelled Miss Patil he stilled.

"Can you turn over please, sir?" she asked softly. "I need to make sure you're back is okay."

"I'm fine," he said harshly. He needed to re-establish his boundaries. He really couldn't understand how he had let a student into his rooms and allowed himself to be found nearly naked, asleep.

"I'm nearly done. Please sir."

He grumbled, but turned. He wanted to see what she would do when she saw the hundreds of scars that marred him back.

He heard her gasp, and then, he felt the gentlest of touches glide across his tortured flesh. At first, he lay there transfixed. But then he realised she was rubbing salves into his skin, kneading and stroking his back and his shoulders so that the healing paste could penetrate deep.

The feeling was like nothing he had ever experienced, and although lying on his stomach hurt his ribs, he could not deny the pleasure in having someone who wanted nothing from him, minister to his body. He allowed himself to enjoy the first ever tender exploration of his body. He allowed her to work her way down, to gently, push his underwear away from his bottom, to check if there was any bruising there. He was grateful that today the punishment had not been sexual as well. He wondered what she would have done if she had seen signs of the rape that was often a part of these little lessons that the Dark Lord liked to give him.

He knew he should stop her soft fingers caressing his arse. He knew this was highly improper. He was rock hard and he could feel the tension in her, hear her almost panting breath and smell her arousal. He knew he had to do something to stop this madness but he could not. He could not stop himself enjoying her attentions. He couldn't even stop himself from wanting to thrust himself into the soft duvet under him and allow himself to orgasm. Her hands were so soft, so tender.

Padma couldn't believe how bold she was being. She knew she was taking advantage of him in his weakened state, but she was living a dream, exploring the man whose body she had fantasised about for as long as she could remember. She continued to rub in the salves, but once she reached his arse, she didn't do more than just caress his bottom gently a little before allowing his underwear to cover his biteable arse once more. She tried not to look to see if he was hard, although she suspected he was. She herself was wet beyond compare. She knew she was drenched down below, and she hoped he couldn't smell her. She could smell herself.

Then, she checked the back of his legs, felt to make sure his ankles were both okay, though he could have told her that his feet were the most protected of his body given the strength of his dragon-hide boots.

Once she seemed to have stroked nearly all of him, she gently helped him to turn over onto his back once more.

Quietly, she settled him and drew the covers until he was covered. She did her best not to dwell on his aroused flesh although a feminine part of her gushed at the sign of his response to her ministrations.

Wanting to make sure she had missed nothing, she began inspecting his head. It was only then that she noticed the gash in his skull.

"You should have said," she said crossly.

"It was nothing serious. It has stopped bleeding," he said dismissively.

"Hmp," she responded. But she went into the bathroom and returned with a basin. Then, she gently began to clean his wound, going so far as to wash and shampoo his hair once she was sure the gash has been properly healed. She had imagined bathing him for so long. She never thought it would be under circumstances such as this.

"What are you doing?" He sounded beyond shocked.

"You need taking care of," Padma said firmly. "You need to look like tonight never happened when you face people tomorrow."

"I've always managed before."

"Yes, but you do look like shit most of the time." She didn't know where this strength of character was coming from. She was the timid one in the family, the quiet one. But she was glad she was able to channel Parvati if it meant it allowed her to help this man tonight.

He frowned. He didn't know what to say to her. She didn't seem to be afraid of him, and he didn't have the energy to find his usual vitriol.

Defeated by his own exhaustion, he allowed her to minister as she chose. Once she was done with him, she asked him how to contact the house elves.

"Just ring the bell-pull in the other room."

"Right. Back in a second."

He lay there in the silence, wondering what she was on about.

He didn't have to wait long. She soon returned and began to light the fire, and gather up his shed clothing.

Soon Mundy his house elf showed up. "Can I have some thick beef broth for the professor please, and some pumpkin juice?"

"Right away, Missy," said the amazed house elf.

Severus wondered what gossip would ensure with the elves for they knew he was emphatic about not allowing anyone into his chambers. Only Albus Dumbledore managed to breach his sanctum, and then, only because he was the Headmaster and Severus couldn't completely bar him, however much he would like. Not that the dark man made it easy, the doors to his chamber were often spelled to vanish into the stone-work, and often, unless the situation was dire, even Dumbledore could not find the entrance.

But this young, exotic woman had no idea how unusual her presence in his private space was. Unaware of her special circumstance, she was the only female, other than Narcissa Malfoy to have ever been in his rooms, she smiled kindly at the elf and turned once more to look at him.

Severus frowned at her, but it was without heat.

Padma continued to smile. Looking about the room, she found his jug and glass which were on the bedside table. She picked them both up and vanished into the loo.

He could only imagine that she was washing them before filling them with water.

He was amazed at the care she was showing. He supposed that it was because she was Indian. Weren't they trained to take care of their men? But he couldn't imagine her Gryffindor twin doing these same things.

By the time she returned, Severus was gearing himself up to get her to leave.

Instead, she just conjured another pillow [he only had one on his bed] and moved to prop him up so that he could drink his water.

"I'll only wait until the soup arrives," she said gently, pre-empting her eviction. She could imagine that he was furious with her and with himself for allowing himself these moments of weakness. "I'm not trying to be a nuisance. But someone needs to take care of you. You've got other things to worry about, and you can't be bothered. I understand. But if you don't look after yourself, you won't be able to do all the things you need to do."

He sighed. He had never felt more unable to talk.

Then, even as he watched, she conjured up a comfortable armchair covered in midnight blue corduroy, and settled in to wait.

Once the broth arrived, she watched as Mundy arranged the tray in front of him.

"Please have Professor's things washed and mended," she said to the house-elf.

Mundy flapped his ears in agreement.

"Good," she said. Then, glancing up to meet her professor's eyes, she asked, "Could you also have the stains removed from my tie please and returned to my dorm-room?"

"Yes, Missy," said the elf.

"Thank you," she said in the same kind tones she had been using all throughout the conversation.

The house-elf bowed low and popped out.

Once they were alone, she made no move to leave. She just continued to sit there, calmly, watching him eat his broth.

Severus was tired, confused, but more importantly and worryingly relaxed in her presence. He recalled how she had sat with him oh, so silently during the Yule ball. He wanted to chase her away, and to do so in a way that would prevent her from ever coming near him again, but somehow he couldn't. He wanted someone to worry about him. He realised she didn't fully understand what was going on, but he'd seen how she and Morag McDougal always sat together at Potions. He knew Angus; he suspected that Miss Patil had a very good idea where he disappeared to and from whence he had returned in his present state. He wondered if she suspected more, but then dismissed it. She could prove nothing. No one in the castle other than for Dumbledore truly believed him to be other than he appeared to be. None of her little friends in Gryffindor could for certainty say anything to incriminate him. Besides, he was supposed to convince the Order that he was theirs, not Voldemort's.

He sighed. He was too exhausted to think clearly. Putting the conundrum that was Miss Patil aside, he focused on finishing his broth. He knew from Poppy's past ministrations that there would be no peace until he finished eating what was before him. He found it odd though that unlike Poppy's fussing that Miss Patil's care was a soothing balm. But she didn't fuss. She was much more practical, and gentle. He could still feel the tenderness of her soft hands caressing his flesh, stroking his bum. He was mortified that just thinking of her touch was making him feel hard yet again. He had never been sexually attracted to any of his students, and now suddenly in the past hour he'd been turned on a number of times. Each time though he had forced his feelings away, concentrating on the pain, on what he had learned and what he had to tell Dumbledore. But it was getting harder to distract himself. She looked so innocent, yet her eyes were knowing. They did not skirt away when they encountered his, but met them calmly, as if she had nothing to hide from him.

He wondered briefly if she had been planted by the Dark Lord. Maybe this was just another test of his loyalty. Would he falter? Would he tell her in his weakened state what he felt? But as he studied her, he realised that there was no artifice in her.

"What were you doing in the corridor so late at night?" he finally asked. He needed to know how much she had guessed. There was no point in him trying to make random suppositions in the dark.

She sighed but didn't fidget under his stare. "I was doing some translations. I've been learning healing charms as I said. Some of them are in Sanskrit, and my pronunciation isn't very good. You can't make mistakes with Sanskrit; it is safer to translate it."

He thought about what she had revealed. "Are these family spells and healing?"

"Yes, family magic. Women's magic. I've come into my magical legacy, and since my sister isn't interested, I've taken all of the texts and am slowly working my way through it." She stopped and watched him. Seeing that he was interested, she continued. "I've started with the most basic of healing. I've left fertility, love and sex for later. All the household and marriage related ones I didn't even bother to open. There's time enough for that."

His eyes dipped. He felt his heartbeat pick up when she mentioned fertility, love and sex. He wondered if one of the Death Eaters had cast a virility charm or even a lust enhancer while he was being punished. It might not even have been as a punishment, but as a small token to ease the burden of the pain. He frowned. He couldn't allow something like that to get by him just because he was in pain. He would have to check and if what he thought was true, he would have to be even more vigilant. Bringing himself back to the young woman before him, he asked, "Are the texts safely locked up?"

"Yes, all secure," she said, nodding her head. "I only have a scroll or two with me at the most and it isn't obvious when I do the research and translation."

He frowned. She was being too forthcoming. Slytherins didn't disclose facts this easily.

She reacted to his frown. "I trust you, Professor. I don't go sharing information like this with everyone."

Severus frowned harder. Every time he seemed to get a grip on things, she said something beyond his ken and changed the pattern of his thoughts. No one, not even Dumbledore had ever given him their trust this easily. He didn't know how to react.

Since the Yule Ball Padma had been thinking and pondering on her Potions master even more than before. She had realised that she would have to bold if she was to get anywhere with him. She also knew that she would have to take maximum use of any opportunity she had with him. He would not be easy to get close to, and her usual shyness and teenage insecurity would have no place if she wanted to be anything other than a student to him. So, seeing his continuing consternation, Padma continued to talk. "I wasn't planning on staying for very long at the library. But I finally figured out how to do a complex translation for a spell that heals internal bleeding. I know there are Western spells for this kind of thing too, but it's nice to make use of my own cultural heritage. I sometimes think they have more potency for me, even in translation."

Severus didn't agree. But inclined his head as he listened to her speak.

"It's not true, of course. The research I've done proves otherwise, but I suppose on a sympathetic magic sense, I feel more confident and so it is as if my blood responds to the magic imbued in the wordings or something."

Severus frowned. He thought she probably had a point. A lot about magic was based on intent. If she believed it worked better, it probably did because of her belief.

Padma knew she could only distract him with magical cultural affinity for so long. She could see he was gearing up again to question her, possibly cast her out of his rooms. Standing up, she went and collected the empty soup bowl. "Is that enough? Do you feel stronger? Can I give you any pain inhibitors? I didn't want to before because I didn't know if you'd eaten or managed to keep food down."

He sighed. "I'm fine, Miss Patil. Now, kindly tell me why you are here? What do you want?"

"Professor, Severus," she said boldly, sitting down at the end of his bed. "I don't want anything. But I know that difficult times are ahead of us. If Hermione is to be believed then a war is coming. I know that I don't want the Dark Lord to win. Morag has said a little about what will happen to Muggle-borns and our Muggle family members. My cousin Akash is married to a Muggle-born. His sister, Veena is married to a Muggle. They are worried. I am too. So."

She stopped and watched him.

He in turn watched her. He said nothing. He looked very thoughtful though.

She took this for a sign that she was explaining what he wanted. She continued. "I also know that you are important in some way. I know you're a Death Eater, but I've also read the old _Prophet _reports that said you were a spy for Professor Dumbledore. Now, if that's true, and I think it is, then I think you're still a spy. You might pretend to be a spy for the Dark Lord, Morag said you had said so to the Dark Lord. But I don't think so. I might be wrong. But, I don't think you would still be willing to see the world as we know it change. Now, you might have felt that way as an angry young man, I know Morag's dad did, but since then he's changed. He's got no choice but to be a Death Eater now, even though Morag's mother is almost inconsolable in her fear and worry for him each time he is summoned. So."

She stopped again.

Severus still said nothing. He wanted to shake her. She was risking the life of her friend's father with her lose talk if he was loyal to the Dark Lord. He wondered how sure she was to drop names so easily. First that of her cousins, now her friend's father.

"I know you think I'm foolish in using names. I can see it in your eyes. But I trust you, Severus." Padma used his name deliberately. At this moment she wasn't just a student, she was a young woman in the bloom of her womanhood. At fifteen her mother had already been pregnant with her oldest brother Parakram.

"You are in this alone. If you are a spy as I think you are, then you can trust no one. No one from the Gryffindors or from Dumbledore's gang can be seen to be close to you. If you are taking information back to the Dark Lord, then the more distance there is between you and them the better and safer for you and for them. I thought that was why you didn't want to go to the Infirmary. Also, if I am completely wrong in all of this, and you are a loyal Death Eater, then you can't get close to them anyway or they will suspect your true allegiance. Either way, you are forced to be apart from them."

Padma suddenly felt that she was saying far too much. She felt drained. Putting her thoughts into words was difficult. She got up and walked towards the side table that held the pumpkin juice. She had asked for it for Severus. But now, she took a sip from it for herself. She thought he would respond. She'd been speaking for so long. But he still said nothing. Still, he watched her, silent, thoughtful.

She sighed. Then placing the goblet back on the table, she moved back to her seat at the foot of his bed. "I know none of the Slytherins will help. If this is the Dark Lord's punishment, then they can't side with you in any way. So. You are alone. Whatever your true loyalties. But you can't carry on alone. There's too much riding on your shoulders. And since I think you're working against the Dark Lord, it is better that the person who helps you is beyond reproach. I am a pureblood with a very long and ancient magical lineage. My family may contain the odd individual that has married outside the wizarding world, but this does not include my immediate family. Even my brother Parakram's wife from Punjab is from the purest of pureblood families. It took ages for their betrothal to be arranged. They really went deep into making sure the genealogies and the astrological charts matched."

She stopped again. She couldn't believe he was letting her speak like this. It had been many minutes and he had still said nothing. But, she knew that if what she said seemed untrue, or displeased him that he would have stopped her long ago.

"I want to help. I can't fight. My family will not allow me to be involved directly. But I can help you. Let me help you. Let me be here for you. I'll continue to learn all the healing I can and I shall be your personal assistant in any way I can. I love Potions and I'm a Ravenclaw. No one will think anything amiss. My house is known for its extra credit assignments, it's not just Hermione who does that kind of thing. They'll think me odd for choosing Potions over every other subject, but, Morag knows how much I love Potions, she'll not be surprised which will mean no one else will be either."

She couldn't believe she had bared her innermost thoughts to him like this. But she had wanted to ask him for extra credit work for a long time, first because she did truly love Potions, and secondly because she wanted to be close to him. She knew she wouldn't be allowed a proper career like Healing after Hogwarts, no matter the changes taking place in Muggle British Indian families. Pureblood girls of her caste didn't work, but if she had a cottage industry, making beauty potions or medicinal elixirs, her family would permit it. They would let her work from home. So this she could gain permission for from her parents. They would be proud. They would not think it amiss.

Severus sat in silence once she had finished. He knew without having to use Legilimency that she had spoken the truth about her thoughts and feelings. He was good with body language and she had been totally open, hiding nothing. She wanted to be with him, to help him. It amazed him. He could not understand what was driving her, despite her words. But he could not forget the calm and contentment of the evening spent sharing the quiet so long ago. And he could not fault her help or behaviour this evening, despite or even because of her excitement at caressing his body while rubbing the healing balms.

"I shall think on it," he said finally. "I will let you know what I decide. Now, be off with you. Use the Floo in my sitting room to get to your common room. These are not the kind of days in which you should be wandering around the castle at night."

Padma knew she had used up all her time with her dark wizard. He would not let her distract him with conversation for much longer. Besides, it was late and she was tired. "Yes, sir," she said quietly in agreement.

Standing up, she smoothed the duvet where she had been sitting, and kissed him softly on the cheek, much like she had done before. Only this time, she lingered, took a bit longer, actually inhaled his scent before straightening up. She then collected her belongings, and turned to leave.

"How do I ward the door to your rooms, sir?" she asked suddenly. She had just remembered that she had not seen him do so as she had followed him in earlier.

"They are set to reset once I'm inside," he said in explanation. He was still reeling from her kiss. He had not missed the way she had lingered. Nor had he missed the way she had stayed to breath in his scent, because he had done the same, taking in her exotic jasmine fragrance. His discomfort in realising his fascination with her fragrance prompted him to offer, "You would have been allowed to leave, but no one else can come in. You couldn't have either, once you had left."

She nodded, then gave him another lingering glance. Then she softly half closed the bedroom door and made her way to his sitting room. She had a quick look around the bookshelf covered walls, took in the desk piled with papers and the comfortable looking armchair and sofa before taking some Floo powder from the pot on the mantelpiece. "Ravenclaw Common Room," she intoned clearly and stepped into the fire.

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><p>AN: Love it or hate it, please let me know what you think.


	5. Chapter 5

**Part V **

**Lab Assistant**

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><p>(i) The characters and world of Harry Potter are the property of the marvellous J.K. Rowling. I make no money from this.<p>

(ii) Please read and review. I would love to know what you think of the story.

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><p>The next morning Severus woke up feeling almost human. This was a pleasant surprise to the way he usually felt after a 'special lesson' bestowed upon him by his gracious Dark Lord. However, not feeling like death warmed over meant that he needed to re-evaluate the benefits of Miss Patil's assistance. Being able to do more than manage to make it down to the Great Hall for breakfast would be a great boon given the way the war efforts were going. He could not discount the young Ravenclaw's assertion that it was imperative that he was fit enough to do what he had to do.<p>

Severus' tempus alarm had woken him as per usual at six. Having grown used to getting by on little sleep and nearly constant pain, he had stretched very carefully to evaluate his physical condition before gingerly making himself leave his bed to shower, frowning thoughtfully at the novelty of not being in too much discomfort. His ribs ached, but the pain was a dull one. Even his shoulder was fine, and when he checked he saw that his wounded thigh was healing nicely. It looked like it would not scar too badly either.

If nothing else, he knew he owed Miss Patil a fair hearing for her excellent care alone. But it was not just her care that moved him; it was also that she believed in him.

Severus wondered how Dumbledore would react. The old man had been trying to palm Granger off on him as an assistant since the start of the school year. Severus grimaced. Granger was a good student, but he knew he'd off himself before he allowed the irritating Know-It-All into his private space. She didn't know when to shut up and if Dumbledore thought Severus would fall for one of the old man's Gryffindor spies, just because she was young and untouched, Dumbledore had another thing coming.

But Miss Patil, well, she was a totally different kettle of fish. She knew how to hold her tongue, she was a Ravenclaw and most importantly, she wanted to be of help for her own reasons. She was no Gryffindor spy. And given the information she had volunteered, he could not discount her reasons.

Severus finished dressing while thinking carefully of all she had said. He realised that she had been right; he did need help, help that did not look like it was coming from the old goat and his cronies.

Frowning, he looked at the porcelain clock that sat on his sitting-room mantelpiece. A gift from Narcissa one Christmas, he had over the years grown quite attached to it. He frowned again. It was funny, at one point after Lily's rejection of him, he'd considered if Narcissa was the one he was supposed to be with. He'd tried hard to get to know her, even though she'd already been Lucius' wife by then. Nothing had ever come of his efforts, but they had become friends: close and true friends. It was what made the couple choose him to be Draco's Godfather and it was that friendship that stopped Lucius from killing him outright. Lucius knew Narcissa would be hurt that he'd done away with someone she considered hers.

If he took on an assistant, that assistant would have to mingle with the Malfoys. Narcissa and Lucius were in the habit of Flooing to chat frequently. They too did their part in keeping an eye on him, just as Dumbledore did. Miss Patil would definitely work a lot better in the pureblood company than a brash Muggleborn Gryffindor. The Malfoys would not suspect Miss Patil and her connections.

Severus held back an involuntary shiver. Did the young Ravenclaw know that her uncle was one of the new recruits?

Severus looked at the clock again. His ruminations hadn't taken that long. It was only a little past seven. There was still enough time to make it to Dumbledore's office before breakfast. Taking a pinch of Floo powder, Severus stepped into the green flames.

"Ah, Severus," said Dumbledore as he stepped out into the Headmaster's Office. "Here to make your report, I assume."

"Quite," said Severus. He took a seat in the armchair in front of the large desk and cleared his mind, bringing the meeting into the front of his thoughts.

The old man sighed and walked around the desk to stand before him. "Legilimens," Dumbledore said quietly.

Severus knew the man didn't need to say the spell, but it was a courtesy that allowed Severus to push his thoughts and feelings to the fore so that Dumbledore could see the meeting easily.

Severus had prepared his mind before coming. Now it was a large projector screen onto which Severus was able to project his memories, his thoughts, feelings and summations acting as background information.

Dumbledore and he had done this many times over the years. Dumbledore now knew how to stop, how to rewind and go back to information so that the entire meeting and 'little lesson' were seen in all their fury.

Eventually, the old man stepped aside. Severus knew that Dumbledore would if he could avoid seeing the Dark Lord's punishments, but it was critical information. The Dark Lord liked to speak as he punished, and the words sometimes gave more information than the meeting did. Besides, the differing reactions of the various Death Eaters were also important.

Dumbledore sighed and rubbed his hand tiredly over his face. His eyes were dull as he looked at Severus. "Are you in pain, my boy?"

Severus shrugged his shoulders. "No worse than usual. I will live." Severus did not tell him about Miss Patil or her assistance. He did not want the old coot to read into it anything more than was already there, or worse, get his grubby paws into her so that her assistance was tainted with Order and Gryffindor business. It would be eventually, no doubt, but for now, Severus was keen to keep his cards close to his breast.

Instead, he took another approach. "Narcissa was worrying that I looked tired."

Dumbledore frowned. "I've been saying the same thing, my boy. Let me offer you again the services of Miss Granger. She will ease things for you."

Severus didn't like the way Dumbledore's eyes twinkled at the thought of Miss Granger down in the dungeons or the man's choice of words. He knew the old man hoped that he'd find himself unable to resist the lures of the Gryffindor, something the Headmaster would encourage so that he could be sure that Severus could not be seduced back into the Dark Lord's arms.

"And I told you before, Albus, the Dark Lord would never allow me to take a Gryffindor or Muggleborn for an assistant. The only way that would be possible was if she was taken before the Dark Lord, probably branded with the Dark Mark and thoroughly examined. We can't have that. Potter would go sparse and the silly girl would give away all of our secrets. She is unable to keep her mouth, much less her mind, shut."

Dumbledore frowned and sighed. "I know, my boy. But it would be so much easier than having one of your little Slytherins in the dungeons."

Severus laughed darkly. "None of my little Slytherins would want to be an assistant. A spy, sure, they'll be happy to spy on me, watch my every move and report back to the Dark Lord, but to do actual work, I think not."

Dumbledore sighed. "This is an old argument, Severus."

Severus sighed and rubbed his forefinger across his lips. "But I have a new thought to add, Headmaster."

Dumbledore sat up a little straighter in his ornate chair. "Have you?"

"A Ravenclaw," Severus said his eyebrow quirked roguishly. "If I appoint a Ravenclaw, no one would question that decision. They are normally the ones I use for extra lab work anyway, so if one were to undertake a term or even year-long extra credit project, something along the lines of brewing medicinal potions we might just swing it. If Narcissa Malfoy has noticed I'm tired, then it means the others have, too. Before long the Dark Lord will foist an assistant on me. And you know how much I would utterly love having a spy to look after in my personal space."

Severus watched as Dumbledore tried and failed to hide his disappointment. It was not just the Dark Lord that wanted a spy in Severus' dungeons. The Headmaster had been trying to breach the last of Severus' defences for the last year, too. And the Headmaster had thought he'd finally cracked it with the alluring enticement of Miss Granger.

Severus was only grateful that he had seen through the ruse. He could not have borne having the little Know-It-All taking all of his secrets and sharing them with the Order and her two little friends. They were bad enough as it was, he didn't need them in the only place that he could be himself.

"Have you thought of who you will choose?" Dumbledore said finally.

Severus leaned back in his chair and frowned. "I've narrowed it down to two choices: Morag McDougal and Padma Patil. They are both good at potions and have an understanding of how I like things in my lab."

Dumbledore stroked his beard. "Miss McDougal's father is a Death Eater."

Severus nodded. "Yes, Angus is a Death Eater. But he is not a part of the inner sanctum and he is not in the Dark Lord's good books. Miss Patil's immediate family is currently neutral. Her maternal uncle has just joined, but he's in the most periphery of circles. He has not even been brought to the Dark Lord's presence as yet. He was brought in by Yaxley because of their business connections."

Dumbledore nodded sadly. "So many families are connected. It is almost impossible now to find a family that doesn't have someone in Tom's ranks in some way."

Severus inclined his head. "This is the world we live in, Albus. There is nothing we can do but what we are doing."

"Why not one of your sixth or even seventh years?" Dumbledore asked, thoughtfully.

"You've said it yourself before," said Severus immediately. "The seventh years are so busy preparing for NEWTs that they wouldn't have enough time to give me anyway, and the sixth years are too lost, trying to make heads or tails out of their altered workloads. The fifth years as you rightly pointed out in the case of Miss Granger can use their time with me to give their OWL results an extra boost. Their schedules though hectic aren't that onerous and they won't feel slighted doing grunt work. The older two years will feel they are wasting their time preparing ingredients for me."

Severus didn't bat an eyelid as he turned Dumbledore's old arguments back on him. These had very nearly been the same reasons the Headmaster had given Severus when he'd first, at the start of the year, tried to foist Granger on him.

Now he sat back and watched Dumbledore try to take back what he had been saying for months.

Dumbledore smiled, twinkling madly.

Only long years of spying prevented Severus from reacting to the blatant look in the old man's eyes.

"Very well, Severus," said Dumbledore. "I'll allow you to have Miss Patil. When will you tell her?"

Severus frowned. He hated the double meanings that the old man seemed to give the assistant idea. He was not looking for a bed partner. Words like take, service and so on really bothered him. Severus had never seduced a student. That he had been turned on by Miss Patil disturbed him. He didn't like it that Dumbledore assumed that was what was going on. "I've not spoken to her yet. I'll talk to her tomorrow after her lesson and depending on what Miss Patil says and does; I'll send her to you, shall I?"

Dumbledore nodded and sighed again. "I grow old and tired, Severus."

Severus wanted to throw something at the old man. He sat there like a spider, spinning his webs, watching Umbridge destroying Severus' Slytherins with her poisonous talk and he did nothing. He could have easily appointed Severus to take the DADA post. Having her in the school was an abomination.

Instead, Severus swallowed his anger, his hatred and his disappointment and stood up. "I should go down for breakfast, Albus. Try not to worry."

Dumbledore smiled. "Thank you, Severus. I shall be down shortly, too."

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><p>AN: Love it or hate it, please let me know what you think.


	6. Chapter 6

**Part VI**

**Laying down the law**

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><p>(i) The characters and world of Harry Potter are the property of the marvellous J.K. Rowling. I make no money from this.<p>

(ii) Please read and review. I would love to know what you think of the story.

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><p>The Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw lesson was peaceful, or at least, as peaceful as a class where students made potions could get. They were brewing the fairly tricky Vertias potion. It was an earlier version of the Veritaserum that was so used by the Ministry.<p>

Severus had often found that the Veritas potion with its amber hue and sweet, caramel flavour did well when mixed into liqueurs or cocktails. The effects weren't as obvious as those of Veritaserum and merely allowed the imbiber to say truths that they really wanted to get off their chest. It was ideal to mix into the special Brandy Alexander he always brewed for the Malfoys as an after dinner drink for their little friendly get-togethers. He'd been making them for so long that none of the others thought he was drugging them, that their talks were entirely voluntary. He shuddered to think what the Malfoys or indeed his other 'friends' would do if they understood what his specialist cocktails included. Idiots, all of them! He was a Potions Master. Of course everything would have a little something extra.

As the double period neared its end, Severus stood up and examined the efforts of the class. Susan Bones and her partner Ernie Macmillan had done a good attempt and he nodded as he passed their desks, so had Morag McDougal and Padma Patil. Their potion was a lovely caramel colour, the fragrance rich and sultry. His nod was met with a blush from Miss Patil and a happy smile from Miss McDougal. Three of the other duos had also produced a fairly decent attempt. The rest were passable. One was abysmal. He shook his head.

"You've not added enough ground opal," he said, looking at the attempt of Justin Finch-Fletchley and his partner Hannah Abbot. "Nor I think have you crushed your pomegranate seeds well enough."

Miss Abbot flushed and Mr Flinch-Fletchley bit his lip.

Severus sighed. They were good students but they tended to be a little less fastidious in their work. It showed, especially in a potion like the Veritas. "I want a four foot essay as to the uses of ground opal in the Veritas potion," he said, vanishing their failure. "The rest of you, bottle up your potions and label it before leaving it on my desk,"

The students began decanting their potions as he made his way back to the front of the classroom. "See me after class, Miss Patil," he said, sitting down.

Morag McDougal looked at her friend. "What have you done? Are we in trouble? Do you think he knows that we've been discussing him?"

Padma shrugged her shoulders and glanced quickly up to look at their Potions Master. "He doesn't look angry. Perhaps it is just something to do with work. You know I slipped in a note on my last essay saying I wanted to do an extra credit project."

Morag nodded. "I wouldn't have had the courage to do that. But I guess it is better than seeing him without making an appointment first."

Padma smiled. "We've talked about this before. I really love Potions. Why should only Hermione get to do extra credit work? It doesn't look good if we in Ravenclaw don't at least try. And I really want to do it for Potions. Charms would never be as interesting."

Morag nodded. "Good luck."

The friends smiled and Padma loitered near her desk as the rest of the class cleared out. The Hufflepuffs tended to leave much faster than the fastidious Ravenclaws who as a whole tended to put away their things in a more orderly manner. Some even went so far as to give their cauldrons a quick rinse after they decantered their potions.

Once the classroom cleared, Padma hoisted her bag and approached her professor. She hoped he had had time to think about what she had said.

Severus stood up, straightening the papers on his desk. "Follow me. We can talk more comfortably in my office."

Padma quickly smiled and followed the sweeping robes of her professor as he made his way through the classroom and into his office a little further down the corridor.

"Sit," he said, indicating the straight-backed chair that resided in front of his desk.

Padma sat, placing her bag carefully on the floor under the chair.

Severus took his seat behind his desk and leaned back. "I have had time to think about our conversation," he began without preamble.

Padma blushed. She was glad he had thought about it. And the fact he was even bringing it up meant that it was likely to be positive. If he had thought it was nonsense he would never make the time to talk to her.

Their eyes met. "If you agree to what I say, and I take you on," Severus said, wanting her to understand clearly what was going on, "you will be placed in the same delicate position as myself. Dumbledore will expect things of you, and most likely, at some point, so will the Dark Lord."

Padma met his eyes and nodded. "I have thought about it, too, Professor. I have decided to tell Dumbledore that I would like to remain as neutral as possible. Just because I'm," she blushed, she couldn't talk about the DA of course, "convinced that things are hotting up does not mean I'm going to, ah, be an active participant in the war. My family are neutral, we don't take sides. We played no part in the last War."

Severus sighed. "Not all of your family is neutral," he said warningly.

Padma's eyes grew large. "None of the Patils, no way, Professor," she said feelingly.

Severus did not say a word. He just looked at her.

Padma looked away. "Shit," she said softly. Then she blushed, "Sorry, Professor. I didn't think he would."

Severus did not say anything. He could not. His position would not allow it, not this early in the game. But he had given her his warning. He needed her to realise how delicate the position was.

Padma bit her lip and sighed. "I understand, Professor. I promise. I will say nothing, not to anyone. Not to my twin, not to my parents. What I told you, I know I dropped names, was indiscreet, but I had to take the chance, to make you see that I trusted you, that I believed in what I was saying."

She stopped and bit her lip again.

She was amazed at his patience with her. He seemed so calm. None of the others in her year would believe her, but he was giving her a kind hearing. She hoped he didn't feel beholden to her for her help.

Severus nodded. "Just so you understand. You will brew medicinal potions and prepare ingredients for me. Mostly the latter, less of the former, or at least, less of the former until I am sure I can trust you alone with my Infirmary brews."

Padma nodded. "Yes sir."

"Have you learned to clear your mind?" he asked next.

Padma was taken aback. What? "As in preparation for meditation, sir?" she enquired.

Severus nodded. "A clear and empty mind would be a useful tool when going to see the Headmaster, Miss Patil. If you could try not to show him our conversations: that would be helpful."

Padma's eyes opened wide. "Legilimency without permission is not allowed, sir," she said quietly.

"This is war-time, Miss Patil. A lot of things that are not allowed seem to be permissible."

Padma nodded. "I see, sir."

Severus nodded.

Padma let her gaze drift to one of the macabre displays in an eerie blue liquid. It looked like monkey brains. Padma did her best to repress a shiver and turned back to look at Severus.

He'd noticed the direction of her glance and quirked an eyebrow at her.

She blushed. He was so sexy when he did that. She clung to that notion, allowing her fear of what she had taken on to settle. She had known from the moment Morag had told her that he was a Death Eater that her attachment and attraction to him was going to make life difficult. This was to be expected.

"When should I go see the Headmaster?" she asked. "If I have a bit of time, I can clear my mind. And," she bit her lip, not sure how much to say, then continued, "I could also remove some of my memories before going to see him. I've got a miniature pensive. I got it from my Dadi, my father's mother. Her father had been interested in mind magic. It hasn't really been used since then, it is more of a family heirloom. I brought it with me because it is so beautiful and is made from carved Burmese jade. It can't hold much, just one memory, two at the most, but it could contain, well, that night."

Severus nodded. "A pensive would be useful," he said thoughtfully. "They are usually restricted, and the only one I've had access to is the Headmaster's. Otherwise, we are forced to remove memories and store them in a flask or vial. Not ideal."

"No sir." Padma took a deep breath. "I have a number of heirlooms, sir."

Severus quirked his eyebrow at her, he was definitely interested in what she had to say.

"I've let it be known in the family that I'm interested in learning our old ways. I'm the only one in my generation. None of my cousins are interested. I know my sister and sister-in-law aren't and my brother's never taken much heed in magical theory. He like my father is a businessman. They have no time for all this wand-waving."

Severus nodded. "I see."

"My second brother Anand is a squib. Disappointing, but useful for business purposes, contacts in the Muggle world and so on, sir," Padma said. It was not done to discuss squibs in the family, they were a bit like a dirty secret, but in this sense, it was a useful one to share. She wanted him to be in no doubt about how she could help him.

As Severus inclined his head, Padma realised that he understood what she was telling him. He was being offered her heritage, her learning. But more importantly, at some point, if need be, her family contacts. Having a brother who was a squib, who worked in the Muggle business world meant that her family could help people disappear if need be. It was rare for purebloods to still have ties with their squib relatives, and it was only the fact that her mother had not wanted to part with her sickly beta at the time of his birth that had led to him growing up with his magical older brother and later, twin sisters.

"Why don't you see the Headmaster before dinner, Miss Patil," said Severus. "That should give you plenty of time to organise your thoughts. I'll tell him to expect you at about six this evening, shall I?"

Padma nodded. "That would be fine, sir."

Severus nodded his head. "See me after dinner. We can make more concrete plans then."

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><p>AN: Love it or hate it, please let me know what you think.


	7. Chapter 7

**Part VII**

**Albus Dumbledore**

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><p>(i) The characters and world of Harry Potter are the property of the marvellous J.K. Rowling. I make no money from this.<p>

(ii) Please read and review. I would love to know what you think of the story.

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><p>Albus Dumbledore knew that he was the smartest and most powerful wizard of his age, but he was worried. More worried than he wanted to admit. He had anticipated that Tom Riddle would send a spy to Hogwarts, one that was not supposedly a double agent, but Dumbledore had not expected Severus to find a way of evading the eventual placement the Order's own spy that Dumbledore suggested as an alternative. Dumbledore wanted to know what went on in the dungeons. As it was, the castle and Salazar's wards prevented easy surveillance.<p>

Dumbledore often wondered, secretly of course, it would not do to drive Severus away, however real his remorse was, what kept the dark man going back for punishment at the hands of the Dark Lord. Albus could not understand Severus' courage and stoic forbearance. It was inhuman, surely. Sure, the boy still loved Lily, and Dumbledore had ensured that the guilt Severus felt over her demise never wavered, but, it was not enough. Albus could never have done what Severus was doing and so, the Headmaster continued to doubt his Potion Master's sincerity.

Besides which, the dark days of torture, humiliation and degradation were starting to tell more than ever on Severus' face. Dumbledore knew that the dark man was about crack. Severus was tired. Everyone could see that. Now that the illustrious Mrs Malfoy had stated her opinion, the Dark Lord would do something about it.

Given that state of affairs, Severus' suggestion of a Ravenclaw in the dungeons made sense. If not Miss Granger, then a neutral Ravenclaw was the obvious choice. Miss Patil was a pureblood, completely unrelated to both the Slytherins and the Gryffindors, and yet, close enough to Harry and his gang to have partnered Ronald Weasley for the Yule Ball. Now that was a bit of good luck. If she could be made either to become a Weasley in her leanings, or indeed, a spy for the Order given her sister's placement in Gryffindor, Dumbledore felt confident that they could prevent Severus from being seduced into Tom's embrace once more.

It was a pity Severus' disposition had not allowed him to fall for one of the female members of the Order. Dumbledore had tried to throw Nymphadora Tonks Severus' way, but he would see her as a student, and her clumsiness and Hufflepuff connections made her unsuitable. The fact that her father was a Muggleborn didn't help matters either.

If only Miss Granger had been a little older. She would have understood the necessity in seducing Severus. But her youth counted against her. She was smart enough that she could mitigate both her Muggleborn and Gryffindor status, but youth, even with her use of the time-turner which Dumbledore had encouraged, hadn't helped.

Now Miss Patil offered Dumbledore another opportunity. But how should he to play it? Should he lay some of his cards on the table? Dumbledore shook his head. No, he had never confided his plans and he was not about to start now. If she developed some kind of misguided loyalty to Severus, she might tell him Dumbledore's plans. Better to just see how things developed.

Dumbledore rubbed his hand down his beard and leaned back in his chair. It was nearly time for Miss Patil to arrive.

Padma knocked on the door with trepidation. She had cleared her mind and ensured that she had placed her all important conversations with Severus in her grandfather's pensive. She was glad she'd brought it with her to school. She knew she'd have to learn Occlumency as soon as she could. The Headmaster would not often give her time to prepare for a meeting with him.

"Enter," called a voice from beyond.

Padma grimaced and opened the door. She was glad she had been expected and the spiralling stairs already visible. She found the two gargoyles who guarded the entrance a little alarming.

"Good evening, Headmaster," said Padma, walking into the room.

"Good evening, Miss Patil," said Dumbledore. He politely indicated a hand towards a chair, and Padma walked towards the table and settled into the comfortable chair that sat in front of it.

"I take it Severus has explained that he is looking for a lab assistant," said Dumbledore.

"Yes, Headmaster," said Padma. "Professor Snape said my work could use the practice. Since I am keen to improve my potions skills, I was glad for the opportunity to spend more time perfecting the preparation of ingredients."

Dumbledore smiled. It amused him to see how Severus had worded his request.

The old man didn't know, of course, that Padma was putting her own twist to Severus' words. She had thought long and hard about how she should approach the Headmaster. She had to play it right. Too much interest in the Potions Master would be a mistake. So would making any mention of his kindness or his graciousness. It was best to present him the way her twin saw him. The words she had used were the kind of thing a Gryffindor would expect their version of Snape to say.

She could see from Dumbledore's smile that her tact had been successful. No wonder the Dark Lord was running rings around Dumbledore and the not so-secret Order. If she as a fifth year student could understand and mould her conversation to pass under the radar, the Death Eaters easily could. Poor Severus, he really was fighting an uphill battle.

Padma wondered if she was going to be told about the Order. She knew that it was supposedly hush-hush, membership by invitation only and so on, but the wizarding world was not that big, and Padma knew of it through her sister-in-law's contacts with Hestia Jones. If Dumbledore really thought things were secret, he should make it a point to ensure that things were not discussed within the tight knit circles that pureblood witches inhabited.

Dumbledore nodded his head after a while. "Severus has said that you are one of his best students."

Padma gasped. It was well done. "Really, sir?" She could never imagine Severus saying something like that and she imaged how Hermione would act. It was easy from there on to pretend to a Gryffindor need to be praised; she had after all a lifetime of watching her twin in action.

Dumbledore chuckled. "Well, he didn't use those words exactly, Miss Patil, but I have grown accustomed to reading my Potions Master's expressions. That he finds you suitable to undertake the task means that he finds your work up to his exacting standards."

Padma blushed. She couldn't stop herself from colouring up. "Thank you, sir. Professor Snape does not give out compliments."

She knew she was being manipulated in turn, she knew the older man was trying to make her drop her guard, but she could not stop herself from reacting to his praise. He was the Headmaster. It was then that she felt it, his subtle probe into her mind, trying to gauge her feelings and thoughts. Padma pretended she was ignorant of the probe, but she was so pleased she'd cleared her mind and had focused her thoughts and removed incriminating interactions. All he would get was her love of Potions and her high regard for her Professor.

She continued to smile at the Headmaster, even as she tried to stop herself from squirming and running from the room. The bloody bastard!

Eventually he slipped out of her mind. He'd not got anything, or so she hoped.

"Have you made arrangements as to your schedule?" Dumbledore asked.

The fact that he was twinkling like a loon made Padma suspect that he had only seen her need for Severus' approval and misinterpreted it. That was alright. All Ravenclaws wanted to be seen a good students.

"No, Headmaster," said Padma, shaking. She could not stop herself from trembling with the mixed feelings that were coursing through her at his bold and blasé violation. "Professor Snape said to meet him after dinner to discuss what we would do next. I guess once we decide that I will arrange my time with Professor Flitwick."

Dumbledore nodded. "Thank you, Miss Patil. I am sure Severus will be pleased with your help."

Padma nodded. She could not speak. She, instead, ducked her head so he could not read her eyes and left the room. Kali, Durga and all the Goddesses, she'd never really had contact with the Headmaster before this, but suddenly she hated him with a vengeance. No wonder all the Slytherins detested the man. Purebloods knew when someone was trying to read their thoughts. How would they ever trust him if he acted like this?

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><p>AN: Love it or hate it, please let me know what you think.


	8. Chapter 8

**Part VIII**

**Total disclosure**

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><p>(i) The characters and world of Harry Potter are the property of the marvellous J.K. Rowling. I make no money from this.<p>

(ii) Please read and review. I would love to know what you think of the story.

(iii) They have made some format changes at in order to fix some of the more freakish glitches. One of the new changes is review replies now come as private messages. If you have that feature turned off, writers can no longer thank you for your review. So if you'd like me to respond to your reviews, please check your settings!

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><p>After dinner, which was more of the usual boring stodgy elf fare, Padma made her way down to the dungeons. She really missed Indian food, she's give anything for simple dhal and chapatti, and wished the elves would broaden their repertoire. She had started to see a pattern to their cooking and thought if she really tried that she'd be able to accurately predict the order in which dishes were prepared on a week by week basis. Not that the food was badly cooked or even lacking in taste, it was just uninspiring. There were just so many times one could have bangers and mash or bread and butter pudding. And pumpkin juice was just pointless. The elves never seemed to have any other options either.<p>

She had seen her Potions Master pushing his food around his plate, much like he always did. She wondered if he had the same problems with the sameness of the cuisine that she did.

Thinking of him not eating reminded her of how thin he had looked when she had disrobed him. He needed to be fed and all of her mother's teachings of how a proper Indian wife looked after her man sprang to mind. She could understand now how her mother took so much pride in making sure her family were fed.

Padma smiled. If he knew what she was thinking, he'd probably not let her within ten feet of his potions lab, never mind letting her assist him with the grunt work. She schooled her features, and knocked on the door.

"Enter," said Severus.

He had seen the Ravenclaw at dinner and she had looked thoughtful. He too had spent most of dinner not only thinking about her, but how he would introduce her to the Dark Lord and the others as his assistant. He couldn't explain her away as a Dumbledore plant: that would never do. But perhaps if he said that he had taken Narcissa's worries to heart, the name of the Malfoys would ease the way.

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. She'd not even been to discuss her work with him and he was already getting one of his tension headaches. He hoped he'd done the right thing. And yet, her arguments had been persuasive. She was right. He did need the help, both for the brewing, and in a personal capacity. Knowing that one person was on his side meant the world. It had already helped him gain some kind of perspective with how to handle Dumbledore and he knew that her presence, her belief in him, could only make things better as time progressed.

Severus didn't like being beholden to anyone. He hoped she'd not hold it over his head. He remembered how Lily had always made him feel like her slave for all the little kindnesses she'd bestowed upon him. Her behaviour and that of his parents had at a young age made him realise how much he hated being shown affection, especially because it had, up to this point in life, always come with a price tag. Only one conversation with his great aunt at his mother's funeral had been free. That he had dismissed as a fluke. And then, Miss Patil had shared the window seat with him at the Yule Ball and given him an evening of peace, of serenity, and asked nothing in return. That and the help she had given him after the last Dark Revel had been such unexpected boons that he felt he had used up all of his quotas in human kindness. Now he waited for the other shoe to drop.

Padma walked in boldly. One thing she had learned from her few interactions with the taciturn man was that he was bad with people and if she was bold, dare she think it, even bossy, she was likely to get a fairer and easier time of it.

"Hello, Professor," she said, not waiting for him to be cool and distant. Instead, she smiled warmly and took the place she had previously taken on the hard chair in front of his desk.

She waited for him to blow a fuse, but he didn't. He just sighed as he leaned back in his chair.

She hid her smile and waited, trying to look composed.

"Miss Patil," Severus said shortly. "I take it you saw the Headmaster."

"Yes, sir," said Padma. "I did." She swallowed and grimaced. "I'm glad you thought of telling me to organise my thoughts before the meeting, sir," she went on. "I," she smiled and tapped her head, "used my grandfather's bowl, and it helped me deal fairly well with his inquisitiveness." Padma tapped her head again, just in case he hadn't got the point.

Severus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "The dungeons are a safe place to talk, Miss Patil, especially my office and private chambers: a gift of Salazar."

"Ah," said Padma.

Then, allowing her fury to erupt, she spoke angrily. "He tried a mind probe, without any kind of warning or by-your-leave. And he was ham-fisted about it, too. If I could sense what he was doing, any other with training could as well. No wonder the Slytherins hate him. If he tried it with them, Tara and all the Goddesses, there would never be any kind of trust or dialogue. And he is supposed to be the leader of the Light, the one who is the most powerful wizard of the age. My head hurts, and I've only been involved in all of this for a few short days. How do you manage, sir?"

Padma stopped talking and blushed. She hadn't realised how angry she was and now she watched, waiting to see how her professor would react to her tirade.

Severus sighed. He seemed to be doing a lot of it around her.

"Miss Patil, I apologise. I'm glad I had time to warn you. But this is the reality of what we fight. We are surrounded by ham-fisted Gryffindors with no subtlety and sense of tradition, but, manners and etiquette aren't going to win this war. And the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters for all their exquisite mannerisms will destroy your mind in an attempt to extract information. At least Dumbledore isn't a killer, not in that sense. He may drive us up the wall and make us want to throttle him, but," Severus stopped and shook his head. "What is it about you, girl?"

Padma blushed. "I guess, sir, that it is the knowledge that I am on your side. I have no agenda but to help you, to help you survive this war."

Severus shook his head. "I believe your sincerity, Miss Patil," he said seriously, "but I am still confused as to your motives. Why for the sake of all that's holy do you believe in me? No one else does."

Padma bit her lip. "Sir," she said; her voice tentative, "I'm only fifteen, and I know you see me as little more than a child, but I'm not just a witch in modern British society, I am still a part of Indian Brahmin tradition."

Severus waved his hand at her, telling her to go on, even as he stood and walked towards the back of his office, to remove and hang up his heavy outer robes.

Padma gasped, taken by his trust in her. He never, ever, displayed himself without his outer robes in front of students.

"Continue," said Severus returning to take his seat behind his desk.

Padma blushed, allowing her eyes to linger on the lines of his frock coat. He was so austere, and yet, so sexy in his all black suit, his snowy white cravat the only relief against the starkness of the dark wool. "Indian girls marry early, sir," she said at last. "My mother married at fifteen and was pregnant with my oldest brother soon after."

Severus frowned. He wasn't sure what she was getting at. What was she trying to imply?

Padma saw the frown. Damn. He was going to make her say it, wasn't he, oh goodness. "I may not be an adult in the British wizarding world, sir, but I am a woman grown in our community. I can make my own decisions, decisions about the kind of world I want to live in, the kind of people I want to have power over me. The thought of the Dark Lord deciding my future is not a happy one."

Severus nodded. He knew this was not all that she thought. "Miss Patil, if you think," but his words were ignored as she rushed on.

"I have great regard for you, sir," Padma said. She was terrified that she was making a mistake, that he would think she was a little twit. "I know I am too young for anything serious to develop between us yet, sir, but I don't want you to die. Not if I can help it."

She stopped and looked him straight in the eyes. She wanted him to see her thoughts, to read what she was feeling.

Severus gulped. Her gaze was so open that he could not resist slipping into her mind. She wanted him to.

Severus was nothing like Dumbledore. His touch was as light as a summer breeze, gently moving through her thoughts, seeing her making the list with her twin and come to the realisation that she was attracted to her Potions Master. She watched him come to her take on their interaction during the Yule Ball, and was amazed that he lingered, seeing himself through her eyes. Eventually, he got to the memory of her helping him and he slipped out.

"It is inappropriate." Severus frowned. "I can't give you what you need. It is too dangerous."

Padma blushed and bit her lip. "I know, sir. I don't expect anything, but I hope you can see; I'm sincere in my desire in wanting you to be safe. Alive. Once this war is over, then, well, then we can see what happens. If you don't mind, that is."

Padma looked away. She had never thought that she'd tell him how she felt, but she knew, instinctively, that no one had trusted him, been honest with him. If she was true to him, if she played with a straight bat, he would at least not dismiss her. Lying would get her nowhere.

Severus scowled. On the one hand he wanted to dismiss all that he had seen as mere childish infatuation, and yet, there had been such blazing attention on him in her thoughts. She was, as far she could be, pragmatic about him, his failings. Even if it was infatuation, it was more than he had ever had in his whole life. He couldn't help it, he was starved for affection and she was beautiful, exotic, alluring. Her elegance captivated him so much more than brash sexiness or sly seduction ever had or could.

"I will take what you have said under advisement," Severus said at last. "But for now, we will pretend that this discussion did not happen."

"Yes, sir," said Padma.

The relief in her voice made him feel slightly mollified; even as he registered that a part of him was also disappointed.

"I prepare simple brews for the Infirmary every morning. I do the more complicated ones in the evenings and over the weekend."

Padma nodded. She was shocked. She hadn't realised he brewed everything for the Infirmary. Given the number of students, he must be run ragged. No wonder he looked exhausted all the time.

"I expect you to come to me three times a week in the mornings before breakfast. If you think you can handle more, then we will work in two evenings a week and perhaps once weekend afternoon."

Padma nodded. "I'm willing to accept all of that, sir," she said biting her lip. "I brought my class schedule. I don't play Quidditch and I generally do my homework as soon as it is given, so I do have free time, time I spend reading for the exams and researching my inheritance."

Severus nodded.

Padma bent down and picked up her bag, pulling out her class schedule. She passed it to him; glad she'd written her activities down so he could clearly see when would be suitable.

Severus picked up a quill and tapped it against his lips. "It is better if you don't write our meetings down, Miss Patil."

Padma nodded, understanding that the less anyone could pin them down the better.

"But if you really need to have things written down, just put down Study Session. I don't suppose you are in the habit of leaving things like this lying about."

"No, sir, I ward my trunk and my cupboard."

"Learn more wards," said Severus. Then, walking to the bookshelves that lined the wall to the left of his desk, he paused and then, picked up a slim book bound in aged, dark brown leather. "Use this. Don't show this to anyone and return it to me once you've extended your drawer and placed anti-detection charms on it. Anything else you think you can do would be helpful, too."

Padma gasped. "Thank you, sir." She was a Ravenclaw. She knew how precious books were. "I will be very careful with your book, sir." She took it from him and cradled it in her hand before slipping it into her bag. "I do appreciate your trust, sir. I will do my best to honour it."

Severus nodded. "Be careful and pay particular attention to Dolores Umbridge. Do not draw attention to yourself. Keep your head down. If she finds out you are assisting me, and she will," but he was interrupted by Miss Patil again.

"I told Professor Dumbledore that you thought I needed to improve my brewing skills, sir."

"That will do," said Severus, slightly nonplussed. He had not expected her to be so subtle, so Slytherin in her understanding.

Padma bit her lip. "What time before breakfast, sir?" she asked.

"I am in my Potions Lab by half six most mornings," Severus admitted.

Padma's eyes widened. "So early, sir?"

"If you are unable to, Miss Patil," Severus said grumpily, but he stopped as he saw her shake her head.

"No, sir, I was just surprised. I'll see you at half six tomorrow morning."

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><p>AN: Love it or hate it, please let me know what you think.


	9. Chapter 9

**Part IX**

**Brewing ingredients**

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><p>(i) The characters and world of Harry Potter are the property of the marvellous J.K. Rowling. I make no money from this.<p>

(ii) Please read and review. I would love to know what you think of the story.

* * *

><p>The next morning Severus was in his lab when he heard the quiet knock on his door.<p>

"Enter," Severus called.

So she was on time. A part of him had hoped that she'd be late so that he could tell her to bugger off. He didn't like the way she made him feel. Severus was not a morning person and the actual fact of admitting someone into his private space first thing in the day made a part of him feel very much under threat.

Padma heard the curt tone of voice and willed herself to be brave. She ensured that she had a suitably neutral expression on her face and walked in, wide eyed and eager.

Severus looked at her through the lank curtain of his hair and wondered how long that look would last. Most students barely made it for breakfast before classes began at nine o'clock each morning. A half six start would surely grate on her, if not today, then soon. But, she had knowingly agreed to help him. She couldn't say she'd been forced into this.

"Good morning, Professor," Padma mumbled. Her professor's face was morose and she hoped he was not already regretting his decision to allow her to help. Just the tightness with which he held his shoulders more than indicated how stressed he was. He needed her. She had to make him realise that as delicately as possible.

Padma had gone to bed planning how she would take care of the man she cared so much for. She had ensured that she had woken up with enough time to shower and wash her hair in the morning, wanting to look her best, even though she knew that it was not going to make any difference to how Severus looked at her. He was the last person to be taken in by something as shallow as appearance. But it was a way of making herself feel like she was in control of the change that had so swiftly come upon her and her relationship with the man she'd been dreaming off for so long.

In fact, Padma had woken up so early that she'd even stopped by the kitchens for a cup of green tea before making it to the dungeons on time.

"Miss Patil," Severus said shortly. Not being a morning person meant that Severus passionately resented having to wake up early every day of his cursed and bloody life. Padma's wide-eyed wonder was a decidedly unwanted pleasure.

Given that he'd again failed miserably to get a good night's sleep the air almost quivered with the tension that emanated off the very surly Potions Master. Severus could never quite forget all the pressures that the Dark Lord, Dumbledore and Potter placed upon his head, especially not at night when the darkness and the silence pressed down upon him, bringing the horrors he'd witnessed and been a part of to vivid, startling life. Practicing occlumency helped during the day, but it was not something that could be done twenty four seven, besides which, it was something that was categorically bad to do while asleep. The likelihood of never waking up from a nightmare was one sure way of ensuring that he died rather unpleasantly.

Blinking away his dark thoughts, Severus scowled at Padma. How dare she look so young and untouched?

"Would you like a cup of tea, Professor?" asked Padma, trying to speak as kindly as she could. It was obvious that he was not in a good mood. "Or do I not have time before I begin doing whatever it is you'd like me to do?"

Severus scowled more fiercely at her. But the thought of tea did sound good. "If you think you can't manage without a cup, it is not in my power to stop you."

_Actually it was_, thought Padma, doing her best to mask her smile. However, the fact that he'd not told her "No," gave Padma some courage. She had learned over the years that no comment meant that what she was doing was acceptable.

"Mundy," Padma called clearly, moving to set down her bag on a stool. She had asked the elf for his name when he had returned her tie to her after her night in the dungeons.

The elf popped in almost soundlessly. "Missy?"

"Could I have a pot of tea for the Professor, please? And perhaps some fruit?" asked Padma. She kept trying to have fruit in the mornings instead of bacon, eggs, sausages, porridge and other heavy fare. But given that most students weren't all that fussed about healthy eating, fruit at breakfast-time never seemed to materialise. Not that the food wasn't good, but she really didn't want to run into fat before she was in her middle years. Furthermore, the elves definitely didn't seem to know about how important it was to have at least five varieties of fruit and vegetables each day.

Mundy flapped his oversized ears and vanished. Moments later, as Padma examined the ingredient list and notes that lay on the worktable, the elf returned.

Padma poured a cup and turned to look at her Professor. "How do you like it, sir?"

"Milk, no sugar," said the dark man in a clipped tone.

He watched, waiting for her to prepare her own, but she didn't.

Instead, she prepared his tea the way he'd indicated and walked over to place the cup and saucer by his side.

She then returned with some grapes that she had drawn off their stems. "Have the fruit first," she said pleasantly. "I'm not sure how well it goes with tea."

Severus grunted, but popped a grape into his mouth. The sweet juice flooded his mouth and he tried not to moan at the sensations. It had been too long since he'd had some grapes. He could never really be bothered to ask the elves for food while he worked and he could hardly linger at the High Table and wait for specials while surrounded by the constant nattering of the teachers or the noise of the dunderheads.

The pleasure she managed to give him through her simple request increased his ire. But the grapes were too nice to throw back onto her interfering face. He knew he wasn't being rational. She was not gloating as she watched him eat. Instead, she was quietly and carefully walking around his lab, perusing the unprepared ingredients he'd already laid out.

Severus bit into another fruit and pondered the conundrum that was Miss Patil. He had noticed that she seemed to like making him eat. Given her agenda, he supposed he should not be surprised. But it did demonstrate that she was paying attention to him, something he had thought no one did. On the one hand her attention meant that he was slipping, because he'd not noticed that level of notice. Nonetheless it also pleased him. It meant she was genuine. She really did care, at least enough to notice that he was not eating and try to do something about it.

Severus frowned and turned to the beetle eyes he was grinding into a paste in the granite pestle and mortar. He didn't like feeling vulnerable, and her care made him feel weak, especially because he liked the way it made him feel. He couldn't afford to have any liabilities.

Damn it. He hardly managed to swallow down a mouthful of the heavy Hogwarts' fare. It tended to sit like a sackful of stones in his stomach, churning up and making him want to vomit. If she was going to ensure he at least had something nourishing in his stomach, something that didn't feel like it weighted a ton, he was going to eat it. Never mind how feeble it made him feel.

Padma had no idea how her small kindness was forcing the Potions Master to agonise over her presence in his space and his own feelings with regards to accepting her assistance.

Completely ignorant of the torrent of thought that was hurtling through the dark man's mind, she organised her things and ate a few grapes herself. Then, having satisfied her curiosity and delight in the well organised space, Padma looked at him expectantly. "What would you like me to start with, sir?"

Trying not to just throw the impertinent baggage out of the room with a flurry of scathing words, Severus bit down on his tongue and moved to the sink to wash his hands.

Rationally, Severus wanted to ensure she stayed, he had thought about what he had been offered the previous night as he had worked and later as he had prepared for bed. He'd even planned what task he'd give her so that she didn't feel like she was in detention with him or that he was palming off on her the most disgusting job he could find first thing in the morning.

"Prepare the alihotsy leaves for the Anti-depression serum. I want them sliced into exact 1/8th of an inch wide strips, horizontally. Take your time. These need to be done perfectly well."

"Yes, sir," said Padma, slightly miffed at his tone. She had never taken the preparation of her ingredients haphazardly. But then as she took out her silver knife, and cleaned it carefully along with her hands at the sink before laying the leaves on the clean chopping board, she thought about what the potion was for. She realised how important the serum must be for the war effort.

She pulled out her glass ruler and ensured that she had a perfect first strip. Then, using her first example and the ruler as guides, she began carefully slicing the leaves. They were of a slightly gooey texture, reminding her of the aloe plants her mother used.

Padma didn't look at her professor. Instead, as she sliced, carefully, she tried to recall everything she had read of the Alihotsy plant and its family.

Severus waited for the questions. But when the young woman before him took on her task, without haste, but with attention to detail, he relaxed and went back to grinding the beetle eyes. He was making the serum for Lupin who seemed, according to Dumbledore, struggling with the need to infiltrate and make contact with the werewolves.

Severus snorted. As if that beta moron could sway the werewolves. They would only follow an alpha, and that was something Lupin was not. He had spent too long apologising for his very existence. Dumbledore was an even bigger fool than he pretended to be if he thought Lupin would be successful, especially because the Dark Lord's envoy was Fenrir Greyback, a mad, savage, dangerous and completely dominant alpha. The other werewolves were terrified of Greyback, they would not change their allegiance whatever Lupin promised. Only if Lupin and Dumbledore proved that they could eliminate Greyback would the other werewolves even consider changing sides.

It was nearing eight o'clock when there was a knock on the door. Both Padma and Severus looked at it with surprise.

Severus hadn't been expecting anyone, but he supposed it was too much to hope that Dumbledore would not drop by to check. He would have heard via the house-elf gossip network that Miss Patil was in the lab.

"Enter," he called out disgruntled.

Padma tried to hide her small smile. She had moved on from slicing the alihotsy leaves to making a simple burn-healing paste that they had learned to do in their third year.

The chime of the timer went off just as Dumbledore entered the room and Padma ignored the old wizard as she began sifting the forest-onion powder over the deep red potion. Once all of the powder had been added, she began to stir, twenty-nine times clockwise before reversing direction for three stirs, before going back again for the next lot of twenty-nine. She had to do this eleven times before allowing the potion to slowly simmer and reduce until the distinct bright orange paste was ready for the final ingredients.

As she counted, she tried to listen in to what Dumbledore had to say. She knew she couldn't afford to make a mistake with the stirring; Severus would be extremely annoyed if her inquisitiveness ruined the batch that was needed for the Infirmary.

"Ah," said Dumbledore, "hard at work, I see."

"Quite," said Severus, his tone frosty. "I must not let this sit for too long, Headmaster."

"Of course, of course," said Dumbledore, "carry on."

Severus ignored the old man and went back to the crushed peppercorns he was adding to the mixture of ingredients for the Flu-be-gone syrup. The Highlands turned brutally cold by the end of September and continued to stay chilly until well into May for the most part. Because of this and the icy draughts that were so common in the old Norman-period built castle Pepper-up and Flu-be-gone were two potions that needed brewing on an almost weekly basis. They were tedious, repetitive potions to make, and if Miss Patil's assistance became regular, Severus would be happy to pass on their brewing to her. But they were fourth-year potions.

Albus Dumbledore could see when his presence was unwanted, but he could not allow his Potions Master to imagine that having an assistant he himself had chosen would prevent the Headmaster investigating how things stood in the dungeons.

Twinkling merrily so that no one would suspect what he was up to, Dumbledore stood in front of Padma watching her stir the Burn-healing paste.

In turn, Padma allowed her anger at the Headmaster's previous mind-probe to direct her actions. She didn't look up and smile at the old man; neither did she acknowledge his presence in any way. Instead, she took a leaf from her professor's book and focused solely on the potion in her cauldron, stirring it with precise, deliberate figure of eight movements.

When she had come to her first twenty-nine stirs, she deftly lifted the glass stirring rod out of the potion, swapped hands and then began the three counter-clockwise stirs, making a quick mark on the parchment next to the cauldron so she could keep track of how far in the series of eleven she was before the simmering stage was reached.

Dumbledore stood watching Padma, but when the young Ravenclaw did not look up, but remained completely absorbed in her task, he sighed loudly, hoping to attract her attention.

Padma was forced to look up and she did so, briefly, quickly, before returning once more to the potion. As the three counter-clockwise stirs were done, she focused once more in lifting the glass rob cleanly out of the potion, switching hands and then beginning the second series of twenty-nine stirs.

Padma made the task appear more demanding than it was. She could have acknowledged the Headmaster's presence more fully. But she knew that her professor didn't want the old man in the dungeons and she was not going to jeopardise her place by doing anything that would displease the dark man.

Eventually Dumbledore grew weary of watching Padma stir, and moved to examine the recipe and notes she was using for her work. Realising that she had many more stirs ahead of her, he left her to it and peered into the pewter cauldron that held Severus' now quietly simmering Anti-depression serum. The recipe and instructions for that too were on the side of the cauldron. "A lovely colour, Severus," enthused Dumbledore, examining the pale sky blue colour of the serum.

Severus merely grunted, focused as he was in the act of adding the boom berry juice to the Flu-be-gone so that it turned a bright lavender hue. The potion began to smoke, giving off a distinct pepper and lavender fragrance that was both soothing and eye-watering at the same time.

That soon caused the old wizard obvious discomfort and he began backing out of the room. "I'll leave you two to it," he said with hearty cheer.

"Do," said Severus snidely, before returning to his potion.

Padma smiled. He was so rude. When his wit wasn't directed at his students, it was fun to watch. She especially liked that it was directed at Dumbledore. He really thought he was everything that was good and noble, when truthfully; he seemed to run rough-shod over people. If his politics weren't all about opposing the Dark Lord, she would seriously doubt his title as Leader of the Light.

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><p>AN: Love it or hate it, please let me know what you think.


	10. Chapter 10

**Part X**

**Gossip is beneficial**

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><p>(i) The characters and world of Harry Potter are the property of the marvellous J.K. Rowling. I make no money from this.<p>

(ii) Please read and review. I would love to know what you think of the story.

* * *

><p>Albus Dumbledore tried again during breakfast to make Miss Patil a topic of conversation. If he thought bringing up the arrangement in front of the other teachers would allow him to insinuate that Severus had ulterior motives in having the young beauty in his lab alone at ungodly hours the old man had miscalculated. Perhaps he had hoped that it would force the taciturn man into accepting another student into the arrangement, possibly Miss Granger, who Dumbledore had been trying to throw at the Potions Master from the very beginning, as a sort of chaperone or safety net.<p>

Severus sneered into his coffee. What did he care what the bloody dunderheads thought. He knew he was not going to over-step the bounds between student and teacher, unless and, here a tiny voice insisted, until Miss Patil truly demonstrated clearly how ardently she esteemed him. He could not erase the things he had glimpsed in her mind. He hadn't dwelt on them when he had performed Legilimency on her, instead, he had cached them quickly, seamlessly, so that she hadn't even realised he'd done it, only to then replay them in fascination as he tried to sleep.

She had brought herself to culmination dreaming of his stalking prowl, his silky voice and his glaring countenance. It made no sense, and yet, these were her dreams, her fantasies. He knew that when she grew up, when she was ready for him, that he would enjoy her ministrations to the utmost. They were still mere unformed imaginings, but he could well imagine what maturity would bring to her sexual yearnings. The moral part of him shuddered at the depravity of a man his age being seduced against his will by an innocent such as Miss Patil. But he brushed it aside. She wanted him. She had chosen him when no other woman ever had. Hadn't the old twinkling bastard tried to throw a young woman just her age at him in the hopes that he would not return in truth to the Dark Lord? So his fascination with the dark beauty was not only allowed, but to be desired since she claimed she didn't want the Dark Lord to win. Let the meddler stew on that fact if he ever got to know about what was racing through Severus' mind. But the fact that Dumbledore still mistrusted Severus' altered position just went to show how little the Headmaster truly knew Severus. Once the dark man had given his word, he would stick to it unto death.

It was the Dark Lord who had first broken the covenant that Severus had made with him by threatening Lily, the one person he had loved. After that there was no going back to his so-called Master's service. Even though Lily had had nothing to do with him, Severus could not let go of what he understood as his duty to protect a childhood friend. He had done more for Narcissa and she didn't have half the space in his heart that Lily occupied.

If only Dumbledore understood the truth of what drove a pure Slytherin heart, he would never doubt the house or its members. Slytherins lived to serve, they yearned for a true leader to hold and wield their power. They did not yearn for mastery themselves; they knew they were not worthy. Even Lucius Malfoy for all his nasty spitefulness would serve honourably and well if he had someone worthy to pledge his troth to.

So, Severus ignored Dumbledore's merry twinkling and suggestions that he would now have a pretty sight to see with Miss Patil working so diligently in the dungeons and focused on trying to swallow down another bite of his plain toast.

This was usual behaviour for the Potions Master for he had spent many years not talking unless strictly necessary at the High Table. For once his customary silence came to his rescue.

And surprisingly it was neither Poppy Pomfrey nor Minerva McGonagall who responded to Dumbledore's ruse but the diminutive Head of Ravenclaw.

"Severus has always made it a point to assist my students if they prove up to his standards," said the Charms Master, choosing not to respond to the suggestion that it was Miss Patil's appearance that had swung the position in her favour. Flitwick then turned to nod at Severus, who continued to drink his coffee and glare at the student body as a whole. "He was instrumental in getting Mr. Blake that position with Master Balthazar in Carthage. He's doing very well by the way Severus, and he sends you his thanks. Miss Patil came to me last night to discuss her class schedule and the plans you had suggested. I think she wants to do too much, but then she's conscious that time is slipping through her fingers. If you don't mind having her underfoot, it would do her a world of good. She was saying how her family would not allow her an apprenticeship after Hogwarts, and working at Saint Mungo's to learn more would be out of the question. It is a pity since she's got a keen mind."

Severus did not speak but inclined his head.

Flitwick continued, as though that itself was a response. "Quite so. Let her take in as much learning as possible, that's what I say. She says she might be allowed to have a cottage industry, brewing potions deemed to be suitable for a woman in her standing such a beauty and medicinal varieties, possibly perfumes if she achieves that level of skill."

Dumbledore remained silent and Minerva McGonagall turned to look at Flitwick. "You mean she won't be able to pursue any kind of study after school?"

"Sadly, no, Minerva. Her mother comes from a very traditional background in India and she wanted the girls to leave school at the end of their third year and get engaged as is customary, but thankfully Mr. Patil put his foot down and has allowed both girls to study up to their NEWTs if they so desire. For a Ravenclaw to be married at fifteen with no recourse to education and educational pursuits is unimaginable. She was desperate to cram in as much learning as she could. She was so pleased that the Headmaster indicated that she could aid Severus even in the preparation of ingredients. I've offered to allow her to help with Charms next year if the arrangement with Severus comes to an end. No Ravenclaw should be forced to contemplate failing her classes, merely to prolong being married off to a much older man."

Poppy shook her head and said sadly, "I hadn't realised the Misses Patil were in danger of being married off so young. I normally leave my talk about sexual health and reproduction until the students' fifth year. But if there's talk about betrothals at thirteen, perhaps I should bring up the subject in third year, too. What do you think?"

Pomona Sprout placed her cutlery on her plate and leaned forward. "Get it done in third year. Even if a lot of it goes over their head, they'll know enough to get by. Then you can do it again in fifth year. I caught two of my fourth years experimenting with sex in the broom closet in their common room. Don't know where they'd read what they'd read, but it was sheer nonsense."

She laughed. "Severus, you would have taken off at least fifty points for sheer bloody stupidity. Good thing they didn't think to try out their so-called theories outside the common student areas." She guffawed at her own words and went back to eating.

Severus frowned. He didn't like to think of his students as sexual beings, but he could not deny what he had been like as a randy teenager. Even if he hadn't had anyone to experiment with, he had read and studied the subject at length, sneaking into the restricted sections of the library to study sex magic and think himself so clever. He could well imagine what the latest lot of dunderheads were getting up to. He tried not to immediately remember how he'd found Lily, his beloved Lily with her heels in the air with Potter grunting between her thighs at the Yule ball their sixth year. He'd never been able to pass a rose bush since then without wanting to blast it to smithereens.

As the conversation turned to sex education and the point tallies for the House Cup, Severus pushed back his chair and stalked out of the Great Hall. Dumbledore was stewing, it was apparent on his face. But Severus knew that the old man would eventually tire of trying to needle Severus for the assistant he had taken on. The pouting at not getting Miss Granger into the dungeons might take longer though. For once Severus was glad that Dolores Umbridge was at Hogwarts, because he knew the witch had plans to make life difficult for Dumbledore.

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><p>AN: Love it or hate it, please let me know what you think.


	11. Chapter 11

**Part XI**

**Courtship?**

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><p>(i) The characters and world of Harry Potter are the property of the marvellous J.K. Rowling. I make no money from this.<p>

(ii) Please read and review. I would love to know what you think of the story.

* * *

><p>Severus got through the day with difficulty. He kept getting side-tracked at slow moments by thoughts of what he had glimpsed in Miss Patil's fantasies. He was almost willing to believe that she was a clever plant by the Dark Lord if he hadn't done his own research during the mid-morning break into her family history and their connections with Death Eater activity. She had not lied about her Muggle and Muggle-born connections. She would never willingly have joined the Dark Lord. Too many of her family were in danger already and enough evidence could be found to suggest that the Patils and their family, both by blood and by marriage, were a tight knit group.<p>

He didn't look forward to her turning up, if she even did, for the evening's brewing. He had, on the one hand thought of assigning her the task of keeping an eye on, and stirring as needed, based on his exact directions the Dreamless Sleep he was making for the Infirmary. It wasn't a hard potion to make; it just required time and a lot of precise stirs at exactly the right moment in the brewing cycle. It was time he didn't really have since he had to begin getting the Wolfsbane ready for Lupin and those the werewolf said were thinking of joining Dumbledore. Idiot! Lupin was a sucker. They would take the Wolfsbane and go on their merry way, supporting the Dark Lord because he gave them what they liked, victims to play with.

But Dumbledore was not willing to accept Lupin's ineffectiveness. What use was having a spy if nothing he said was taken to heart and understood? Sometimes Severus just wanted to throw in the towel and escape to some remote island where he could quietly go insane with the pain caused by the Dark Lord's insistent summons. The Order didn't trust him, they didn't accept his advice and information and they endlessly debated the best course of action to take. A case in point was Umbridge. That slimy toad had oozed her way into his office just after the second period had come to an end this morning to talk about the gossip she'd heard. Apparently he'd taken on an assistant. As if he didn't know what he'd done. He'd quelled the urge to throw her bodily out of his office and examined his nails.

"Quite so," Severus eventually agreed in as a bored a tone of voice as he could manage.

"And why do you need an assistant?" enquired Umbridge, simpering falsely. "What does a mere teacher need help for?"

Severus smirked. _Bitch_. "It's never too late to change the habits of a life-time, Dolores," he responded silkily instead. "And now that the Ministry is confident that there's nothing to worry about, since they are convinced they have everything in hand, it seemed the time to start thinking of courtship."

He let his eyes linger over her squat form, trying not to gag at the lascivious look that came over her face.

"Courtship?" Umbridge almost purred, if toads could purr.

"Courtship," Severus agreed. "And a wizard on the prowl has more to do than spend his time brewing potions for Dumbledore and the Infirmary when there are interesting witches to get to know." He tried not to flinch as she edged her way forward. He'd rather kiss Lupin's hairy arse than touch Umbridge's disgusting pink-clothed form.

Tittering, Umbridge had allowed herself to be shown out of his office. He just hoped she wouldn't try turning up one night in a sheer nightgown or something. He'd have to gouge out his eyes with a blunt spoon and that wouldn't make either of his masters' happy, forget all the secret plans he had for when he'll killed both Riddle and Dumbledore and found some blessed peace.

Now, as the gong sounded for dinner, Severus made his way to the Great Hall, his robes billowing ominously. If Dumbledore said one more word about Miss Patil, he'd hex the twinkling meddler and be damned the consequences. He could always then turn and smirk at the toad. She'd giggle and he'd gain points that were needed if they were to keep any kind of control on the school. Potter was already in detention with her and the little miscreants were running a subversive Defence Club. Didn't they know that almost anything they discussed in school was monitored? For all of Granger's supposed intellect, the Know-It-All hadn't realised that talking near a portrait was tantamount to word getting back to him.

Thinking of all the gossip the portrait network brought him, Severus hid a sly sneer. Even Dumbledore didn't know as much as Severus did about what the dunderheads were plotting. For all the Headmaster's vaunted intelligence, he failed to utilise what was in front of him.

Thankfully, Dumbledore must have read the black cloud that hovered over Severus and left him alone. In fact, all of the staff left him alone, even the simpering bitch Dolores Umbridge. Severus was almost put off his food by the silence. What was going on?

He couldn't trust any of the others, but surreptitiously he cast a nonverbal and wandless Muffliato and leaned casually closer to McGonagall. No one seemed to notice as he asked, "What the devil is going on?"

"There's been some kind of accident in the Ministry."

"Oh," said Severus. Damn. That was enough for him to know what was up. Completely off his meal, he pushed the food that now looked revolting around his plate before pushing his chair back.

He turned to the Headmaster. "I'll see you in twenty minutes. We need to talk."

The Headmaster's twinkling was muted when they met later on. But it was apparent that despite Severus' pleadings that the old man was not going to do anything about Potter and the dreams he was having.

Eventually Severus threw his hands in the air. "Listen to me old man. Potter does not trust me. He does not like me. In fact, he hates me and it is as it should be. That is what we've been working towards since the start. But now if you expect him to learn something like Occlumency from me, you're barking. He will resist all attempts I make. The Dark Lord is not going to stop his attacks. Unless," Severus stopped, suddenly seeing what the old man was getting at. "You bastard. You want him to fail, don't you? You want Harry to be open so that we can read what's going on. Damn you, Dumbledore. I didn't sign up for this. You promised me that you would protect Lily and you failed. Now you're sending her son off to die, unprotected. You bastard."

All of the thunder had been taken out of Severus. He sat down in the over-stuffed armchair that was in front of Dumbledore's desk with a stunned look.

Dumbledore's face paled. Had he miscalculated? He had thought that Severus' guilt over Lily's death had always been feigned. That's why he'd tried to throw various Order females at the dark man, most recently, Miss Granger. But if he really was still pining for Lily, the plan to prepare Harry as a loaded weapon aimed at Tom was going to fail.

Severus left the Headmaster with a swirl of robes. He was fuming. It was imperative that something was done. The boy was a loose cannon and without direction he could cause even more trouble than he had in the past. Miss Granger was good at feeding him some knowledge and keeping her head down in class, but even she hadn't escaped Umbridge's wrath. Weasley was almost as useless. Besides, the boy couldn't jeopardise his father's position in the Ministry. The toad had Fudge's ear.

At least it looked like Potter wasn't going to make it to Quidditch tryouts. Umbridge's skirmishes with the boy were making the rounds furiously. Everyone was talking about it. That made Severus smile. The Slytherins needed all the help they could get. Malfoy's wonderful brooms notwithstanding, there wasn't much talent up for grabs in the present bunch.

Severus stormed into the dungeons, the door of his potions lab opening with a resounding crash. It helped ease some of the annoyance that was coursing through him. A loud and insistent voice in his head was chanting songs of doom and gloom.

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><p>AN: Love it or hate it, please let me know what you think.


	12. Chapter 12

**Part XII**

**Alterations**

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><p>(i) The characters and world of Harry Potter are the property of the marvellous J.K. Rowling. I make no money from this.<p>

(ii) Please read and review. I would love to know what you think of the story.

* * *

><p>Padma finished her dinner with a thoughtful frown. She hardly thought about the cottage pie she was consuming or the fact that there seemed to be more green vegetables on the table in front of her. She was still thinking about all that had happened over the last few days. How quickly things had gone from her yearning for a little bit of time with Professor Snape to working with him in his lab, alone. She was glad of the change, of course she was, but it did mean that he was now aware of how she felt. She felt exposed.<p>

She looked up at the High Table to watch the teachers. Professor Snape was glaring off into the distance while Professor McGonagall whispered furiously in his ear. She wondered what was going on. Things didn't look good, not from where she was sitting.

But Padma forgot what she had observed as she once again began thinking about the change in her relationship, if she could even call it that, with Professor Snape. Try as she could, she could not stop thinking about it. She had spent so much time observing the subject of her affection secretly that the realisation that he knew how she felt was exciting as well as terrifying. He knew what was in her heart. He had so much more power over her. And yet, she trusted him implicitly. She knew that he would not hurt her knowingly a purpose unless he had to for the greater good. And even then, if he did decide to hurt her, it would be something that he did with regret, knowing that he was sacrificing her heart, her mind and her being for something greater than them both.

She glanced across the crowded Hall at the High Table again. This time he was pushing his food around on his plate, a frown marring his regal countenance. She knew she was one of the few who thought the way she did, she'd heard Parvati mock his looks too many times when he came up as a topic of conversation, but then, her sister was not always able to see beyond the surface.

One of the second-year boys who had been sitting beside her stood up and left at that moment, and Morag slid down the bench to be next to her. "Practice Transfiguration after dinner?" her friend asked casually.

Padma sighed. "Okay. It's going to be hard work though. I was just going to do the theoretical research today in the library."

Morag nodded. "It is. But getting some practice in will make it easier to write the essay. We'll know what to look for." Her friend looked at the Head Table where Padma's glance kept moving to. "What are you thinking? Is it about Professor Snape?"

Padma realised she was being careless. She needed to be more aware that her musings on the Potions Master needed to be done discretely. "Yes. I was thinking about how much more Potions research I'll need to do if I'm going to be assisting in lab in the morning."

Ravenclaws and studying went hand in hand. Padma's response immediately allayed any suspicion Morag may have had.

"How was the session this morning?" Morag asked tentatively.

Padma shrugged, and finished the last bite of her food before pushing her plate away. "Okay, really."

Morag's eyes showed her interest.

Padma didn't say anything as she picked up the bag she'd placed on the floor under her seat and led the way to Ravenclaw Tower. "He's brilliant. Watching him grind opals was like watching a ballet performance. We look like monkeys attempting to tap dance in comparison."

Morag's eyes widened. "Seriously?"

"Truly," said Padma. "You know what his movements are like when he demonstrates a technique. That's with us all starring at him. Now imagine him in private. We just can't compare, no matter how much attention we place on our work, we just can't come close to his skill. There's a reason why he's a Potions Master, one of the few in the world."

Morag nodded in understanding. "I did some reading when you said you had been offered the chance to assist. There are only ten fully qualified Potions Masters in Europe, only fifty four in the whole world. And of the ten in Europe Professor Snape is the only one who is under the age of eighty. He is the youngest. Apparently after a seven year apprenticeship period, you need to be a Journeyman or woman before you can take on the title of Master. And for that you need to go through a purification process that is so obscure there's hardly anything written about it."

Padma nodded. She'd done almost the same research. "Master Ching in China had to go through the fire," she said quietly. "I wonder what that means?"

Morag shook her head. "I couldn't figure it out. There are three stages of purification, Black, White and Red."

Padma nodded. "I thought that was why he always wears black. Since that signifies his stage."

Morag tapped her fingers against her jaw before going back to arranging the tools necessary for the practical practice session. "That would explain it. It can't be as the Gryffindors believe, that he wears black because his heart his black and he's turning into a soul-less vampire."

Padma hooted with laughter. "Bullshit." She grinned and continued, "Even with Parvati being in Gryffindor I know they speak a load of rubbish."

Morag giggled. "Well I'm only telling you what I heard Colin Creevey and Ginny Weasley say."

"Yes, well," responded Padma, "they aren't the best judges of character are they?"

"But seriously, though," said Padma, her tone quietening down, "I really am privileged to be able to help and learn by watching him. He is truly amazing. All I did was slice alihotsy leaves, but I don't think I've ever paid so much attention to just doing that one task. Class requires us to do too many things in a short space of time. This was like Detention only better because I didn't feel forced to be there. So I could concentrate on the art required. Then I stirred burn-healing paste. It wasn't challenging in itself, but it was good training. He's demanding and exacting, nothing new there."

Morag grinned. "I don't think I would be brave enough to spend so much time with him alone."

Padma laughed. "I'm just doing grunt work, Detention, but without the scrubbing of cauldrons."

Morag giggled. "Hermione was jealous when she heard. I heard her telling Ron and Harry that she'd hoped to be asked."

Padma's eyes widened. "Really? Maybe she should ask for a Detention. That would be a hoot to watch."

Morag giggled but then nodded. "No, but really, she sounded like it had all been arranged that she would be the one doing the assisting."

"Hmm, how odd," said Padma. She'd have to think about what Hermione meant. Perhaps she would talk to Severus about it. She needed to know all the players in the delicate game they were involved in.

Padma sighed. "Well, I'm glad I got the chance. It is fascinating. But it isn't like doing a Charms extra credit project. I'm not getting special treatment or anything. All I do is prepare ingredients and stir. He said if I did that well enough he'd eventually let me brew the simplest of things for the Infirmary, but knowing Professor Snape, that's a long way away yet."

Morag nodded. "Yes. But at least your class work should improve because of it."

Padma nodded, emphatically. "Oh, definitely. But it does mean that now I can't afford to make a mistake in class. He might chuck me out of my extra work if I make a really stupid error."

The friends giggled. They were lab mates. They didn't make stupid errors and had always managed to get at least an Acceptable each session.

Eventually, once the two friends had made enough progress on their Transfiguration work, they put aside their task for the evening.

Morag sat down to play chess with Cho Chang and Padma shouldered her bag. "I've got a book I want to read," she said to the girls.

Cho looked up from arranging the pieces on the board and smiled. "Right. Enjoy!" The joy to be found in a new book to read needed no explanation, not to a fellow Ravenclaw.

Padma grinned. "I will."

Padma waved at some of the others and made her way to the dormitory. Drawing her bed curtains shut, she cast a Lumos and pulled out the slim book on wards she'd been given by her Professor. She first undid the transfiguration she had performed that had disguised the book Professor Snape had given her into a lurid romance. Then, ensuring she'd put up a strong privacy ward that all witches learned when they began exploring their own sexuality in a shared room, she began to read.

The book was fascinating. It wasn't inherently dark, but it was cunning, explaining the theory behind successfully mixing transfiguration, charms and wards with occasion ancient runes.

Padma unwarded her bed and collected her book bag and a sheaf of parchment. She would need to take notes. The book suggested each person make up their own layering sequences. This ensured that no one could easily guess and assume what the warding contained. And if she used some of the things she'd learnt in her magical heritage scrolls, she knew her wards would be impenetrable, at least unless a dedicated ward breaker really focused on her drawer. The trick, of course, was to ensure that the thing you were warding looked as innocuous as possible. If no one thought it was worth warding, they wouldn't check it for complex warding in the first place.

* * *

><p>Severus waited nervously for Miss Patil to turn up. He had assumed that she would. But as nine o'clock approached he realised that she wasn't going to come.<p>

A part of him sighed in relief as he tidied up his lab and began locking up. He had a long evening of brewing ahead of him, but he could relax a bit more about it.

He knew that she wasn't supposed to come, they'd agreed to three mornings a week, but she'd seemed so eager. He'd just thought she'd come. Surely she wanted to talk about the gossip, the reaction of the students.

Severus sneered at his own foolish assumptions. He'd not let on that he enjoyed her company. She would come in the morning. He would maintain his dignity. He was not going to suddenly turn into a love-sick fool over a girl of fifteen just because she had shown that she was attracted to him and had affection for him. He was not a teenager.

He cursed his own idiocy and put the Dreamless Sleep he was brewing to rest for the time being and went back to the complicated mess that was the Wolfsbane. Bloody Lupin! Another thankless task. None of the Order seemed to realise how much time Severus spent brewing. Whatever said and done, at least Narcissa was genuine in her concern for his welfare. She had already heard that he had taken on an assistant – probably through Draco's spying, and she'd sent him a quick missive through the Floo saying she was glad he'd taken her words to heart.

He was pleased she had already assumed that it was because of her admonitions. It made introducing Miss Patil to the Death Eaters, and possibly the Dark Lord that much easier.

* * *

><p>Padma was unsure if she should return to the Potions lab the next morning. They had agreed to three mornings a week, but she really wanted to ask her Professor about how she should deal with Hermione. They were supposed to have a DA meeting soon and she needed there to not be any unpleasantness. She knew she couldn't talk about the DA with him but surely she could talk around it?<p>

Decided, Padma put away her book and notes, and checked to see if the dormitory was still clear. It was. Locking the door for the moment, she slipped onto the floor near her chest of drawers and began to empty the bottom drawer. It presently housed her saris and other weekend paraphernalia that Parvati had insisted she needed.

Once everything in it was on the floor, she took precise aim and extended the drawer until it was ten times the size it normally was. This was then made undetectable. Pleased, she consulted her notes again and cast a charm that made the drawer seem completely benign and uninteresting.

This done, she began to ward it so that if it was opened by anyone other than her, all they would find were the items she was about to place. i.e. the saris. She placed the garments into it and finished the complicated charm. That done, she then cast a spell that ensured that everything else that was slipped in beside it disappeared.

Once that was done, she put all of her special scrolls, treasures and important items, including Professor Snape's book into the middle of the last dress robe. This had been a gift from her sister-in-law, but the colour, a vibrant red was very not her. She'd brought it with her because she couldn't leave it behind, but she doubted she'd ever wear it. This was tied into a bundle and slipped in, right at the back so that no one else would ever find it.

Pleased with her first attempt at specialist warding, Padma unlocked the door, cast her usual silencing and privacy wards on her curtains and went to bed.

* * *

><p>AN: Love it or hate it, please let me know what you think.


	13. Chapter 13

**Part XIII**

**Stirring the cauldron**

* * *

><p>(i) The characters and world of Harry Potter are the property of the marvellous J.K. Rowling. I make no money from this.<p>

(ii) Please read and review. I would love to know what you think of the story.

* * *

><p>The next morning Padma was outside the Potions' Master's lab door at precisely half past six. Her knock was suitably composed and the smile that graced her face at the thought of another morning in his company was forcibly controlled so as not to annoy the taciturn man.<p>

The voice that called out "Enter," was even more snide that it had been the day before.

Frowning, Padma entered, hoping he wasn't displeased with her. She'd not even had time to do anything yet to earn his ire.

The frown was immediately noted by Severus, though he only looked at her covertly through his curtain of lank hair.

"Good morning, sir," she said pleasantly.

Severus didn't acknowledge her but focused with determination on the cauldron in front of him. It wasn't something that required his stringent attention, but it was a good way of avoiding the young woman who so confused him. Her voice had held a note of affection, muted, but discernible to his well trained ear.

Padma bit back a sigh. He was hard work. But then, she supposed she'd known that from the very start. If she wanted easy, she could have thrown her cap at Anthony Goldstein. She knew he kind of liked her and they had plenty of opportunity to be together since he was a Ravenclaw Prefect as well.

Placing her book bag on the desk in the corner, she called for Mundy and began looking at the notes left for her.

Mundy seemed to have been awaiting her call for he popped in with a tea tray and assortment of fruits already prepared.

Padma smiled. "Thank you, Mundy," she said graciously. "That looks delicious."

Mundy's ears folded over in delight. "Missy like fruit," he said in his high voice. Looking quickly at his master, he continued, "Master of Potions like fruit, too. Mundy notice. Mundy keeping ready."

"That was very good of you, Mundy," said Padma. "Perhaps we could have it every time I come to help brew in the mornings?"

Mundy flapped his ears in delight. "For Missy, yes, Missy."

Padma smiled as the elf popped away. She supposed the creature was as happy to see the stern Potions Master eat something as much as she was.

Severus did his best to ignore the baggage that had the temerity to swan into his laboratory and order his appointed house elf around. But when she prepared his tea the way he liked it and brought it to him with a selection of the choicest fruit, he couldn't resist acknowledging her presence with a scowl.

The chit had the audacity to smile at him. "The mango looks succulent, sir," she said, putting the plate down by the side of the cauldron.

Severus wanted to refuse her offering, but a small rational part still remained within him. It reminded him that she had not been asked to come to him last evening, that even her presence this morning had not been explicitly noted, merely suggested. He frowned at himself and looked up to glance at her.

She smiled again and pushed the plate a little closer to him.

Severus found himself inclining his head and reaching for a tiny portion of fruit, already skewered with a cocktail stick. He popped it into his mouth and tried to mask the sheer pleasure that washed through his mouth at the sweet taste. He forgot his ire as he chewed and swallowed, reaching for a second bite.

Padma watched him eat a few more pieces, allowing the pleasure of knowing he had something nutritious inside of him to settle. If she got some time during the day, she'd try hinting at how lovely and easy to digest melon balls would be. She was sure Mundy would be open to suggestions now that Severus had proved that he was willing to eat things that were not too heavy and difficult to digest.

Severus raised an eyebrow pointedly as she continued to watch him eat.

Padma blushed and picked up an apple slice, popping it into her mouth. "Oh," she said, surprised. "I think that's one of the Muggle types my brother once brought from a supermarket."

Severus' curiosity was aroused and he took a similar sliver himself. "What's it called?" he couldn't resist asking,

"I think it's called a Pink Lady," Padma said, "originally Australian if I'm not mistaken."

Severus harrumphed and continued to chew.

She smiled and took a slice of banana next. "I love fruit. We never seem to get any during meal times. I'm so glad the elves are able to provide things when requested in the presence of teachers."

Severus watched her thoughtfully.

Padma blushed.

Severus didn't say anything. Eventually though, he had a drink of his tea. "You're welcome to order food from Mundy if ever you are in need," Severus offered, cautiously.

Padma's eyes brightened. "Do you think he could get curry?" she asked eagerly.

Severus looked slightly taken aback and he reverted to his response of a raised eyebrow.

Padma looked down to hide her grin. It was his obvious failsafe reaction to anything he didn't know how to counter immediately.

"I only ask, sir, because the food at the Great Hall is so heavy most of the time. If we could get some simple boiled rice or chapatti, with dhal for example, that would make a wonderful change."

Severus didn't know how to respond to her word choice of "we". No one, ever, had included him into their plans this easily, especially for something that obviously didn't benefit them. "You can order the food without having to share it with me," he clarified.

"But I want to, sir," Padma hurried to assure him. "I've seen you eating, or," she blushed and bit her lip before carrying on, "not eating, is more like it."

Severus glared at her. _The impertinent baggage_.

"I'd love to have you share what I like," she said more softly. "My mother's the same; she delights in feeding people she cares about. Please, sir?"

Severus examined her face, but her open countenance confirmed her veracity. She wanted to.

"Perhaps," he said at last. Severus was not willing to commit to something until he had examined all of the angles involved in their eating together. He couldn't stand being pitied. Used, he supposed he could live with, he'd been used his whole life after all.

Padma smiled. "We could have it on one of the nights I come to help brew, sir," she suggested.

Severus inclined his head. They would see.

The rest of the morning's brewing passed quietly. Padma ground boom berries until they formed a thick, uniform paste. Once that had been done to his satisfaction, she was given the task of slicing a pound of flobberworms. It was disgusting to do, but flobberworms were an important ingredient for thickening potions.

While she worked, Severus did not speak. He did stop ever so often to make sure what she was doing was acceptable though.

When the bell rang for eight o'clock, he dismissed her with a curt, "Go and have breakfast."

Padma smiled and put away the things she'd been using. Cleaning up after herself, she washed her hands and departed. She was starting to realise that there was only so much conversation that taciturn man was capable off.

But then, just as she was about to leave the dungeons, she remembered Hermione and DA meetings. "Sir," she said, returning to his side. "I need to talk to you about Hermione. I heard from Morag that she was disappointed not to be asked to be your assistant. Should I be cautious around her? What should I say?"

Severus put down the Black Sea salt he'd been weighing out and turned to look at Padma. "I didn't realise you had dealings with her."

Padma could hear the question in his voice. "I can't tell you about it," she said, not wanting to give the DA away but not wanting to lie to him either. "But we meet up fairly often, and well, it could be awkward."

Severus sighed. "If you mean your little Defence club, I know about it."

Padma gasped. "I'm not the only one who knows, Miss Patil. So does Dumbledore and McGonagall."

"Oh," said Padma.

"As long as Umbridge doesn't find out, you should be safe. As for Granger, Dumbledore wanted his own little spy in my dungeons. He thought she'd lure me into bed and learn all of my secrets."

Padma's eyes grew wide in panic. "I don't want to..." she blushed, "that wasn't my intention sir. I swear."

Severus growled. "Idiot girl! If I suspected for one moment, Miss Patil that you had such designs, you'd be ten feet under the Black Lake. Desist."

Padma turned as red as her naturally tanned skin would allow. The insult she dismissed as just another tool utilised by her Professor to keep his distance. She knew how to read her Potions Master. She'd been doing so for five long years after all.

"So I act like I don't understand the importance of my being here? Do I tell her what goes on? Do I brush it off? I told Morag a little about our tasks and that you were a tough task master, nothing for her to suspect or anything unexpected."

Severus frowned and absent-mindedly finished the last of the fruit that was still lying on the table. "See what Granger has to say. Say as little as possible in return. Use your judgement. Do not get into a situation where you become a tool of the Gryffindors. They will try."

Padma sighed softly and nodded. "I understand, sir."

* * *

><p>Padma was glad she'd clarified her position with Hermione when the heavens opened up with a deluge later that afternoon. Quidditch practice was cancelled for the Hufflepuffs, allowing DA sessions to go ahead.<p>

Padma made her way to the Room of Requirement with Cho and Marietta. Marietta was decidedly uncomfortable about the whole thing. Cho had been a fool to not consider the girl's mother's position at the Ministry before bringing her for the initial meeting at the Hog's Head. Their argument had prevented Padma from having to participate in the conversation all the way to the DA session and the pair only fell silent as the three Ravenclaws entered the room together.

Once in the Room, Padma joined her twin, who was standing close to Hermione and Neville.

"Hello," said Padma pleasantly to all of them.

They all greeted her with cheerful nods and smiles, although Hermione's greeting was the coolest of the three.

Harry began the lesson soon after, and the sisters partnered each other, practising their Patronous charms. Padma was determined to get it right; it was such an important and powerful tool if the Dark Lord was planning on using Dementors.

Calling up a happy memory wasn't difficult. She remembered with pleasure how she'd sat with her Professor during the last half of the Yule Ball, how wonderful it felt to be able to kiss him and breathe in his scent after she'd healed him not so very long ago. The thought of seeing him eat the mango this morning was still etched strongly in her mind when she cast the charm, "Expecto Patronum."

A distinct puff of silvery mist issued. For the briefest moment it took shape before dissipating into the surroundings.

Parvati shrieked in delight. "Oh, behen, I'm sure it nearly worked."

Padma blushed. She wondered what form it would take. A corporeal Patronous was something to be cherished. "You next. Come on."

The twins kept practising and eventually Harry walked by them and stood watching for a few moments. Soon though, his eyes turned to observe Cho who was practising with Marietta.

"He likes her," said Parvati knowingly, when he moved a little away from them.

Padma nodded. "It won't do him any good though; I don't think she's over Cedric. And she feels guilty for liking Harry so quickly after, especially given that Harry was with Cedric at the cemetery if what the gossip says is true."

Parvati nodded jerkily, clearly uncomfortable with the topic her sister had brought up.

As Padma said nothing further, Parvati looked longingly over to her best-friend Lavender, who was practising with Ginny Weasley.

Padma watched her twin for a moment longer and then sighed. "Not that I'm not happy to work with you, but why aren't you practising with Lavender?"

That change of topic was all that was required to restore Parvati's good mood. Her twin giggled and said, "Well you know she's got the biggest crush on Ron. She thought it would look good if she got to know the rest of the family, too."

Padma's eyes widened. "Devious. Not bad. Did you suggest it?"

Parvati tried to look innocent but then giggled again. "Well you know what Maaji always says. Getting to know if you can live with your future in-laws is important."

"Hmm," murmured Padma. "Will you be spending time with Lavender or Dean this Christmas hols then by any chance?"

"Oi," whispered Parvati looking around to make sure they weren't being over-heard. Dean was working diligently with Seamus – laughing at Fred and George who were working alongside them.

"I'm not going to Dean's. Don't be absurd. But Lavender's brother's going to be home and he is cute. You know I have a thing for blond _goras_."

Padma laughed out loud and threw a Jelly-Legs jinx at her twin. "You know Maaji is going to flip if you end up with a white boy. She's got her heart set on a nice Brahmin boy from India."

"No cheating," shrieked Parvati, but Harry nodded at Padma seriously.

"Good thinking, Padma. You must always be vigilant. Everyone, mix it up. Don't just practice one spell all the time and become complacent."

Padma grinned at her twin when Parvati frowned.

"This means war," said Parvati haughtily, but she ruined her displeasure by giggling again as she tried to cast Tarantallegra.

Eventually, the DA session was wrapped up. Padma debated whether to approach Hermione or not. She waited until most of the younger students had left, holding back Anthony Goldstein when he tried to leave with Terry Boot and Michael Corner. "We're Prefects. It will be less dangerous for us to be caught after curfew."

"Right you are," said Anthony, allowing his friends to go on without him.

Padma smiled and turned to Hermione, who was also waiting until the last of the Hufflepuffs left. "Morag said you'd wanted to work with Professor Snape. I'm sorry if you think I've stepped on your toes."

Padma's frank approach brought a smile to Hermione's face. "Oh," she said blushing. "Well, the Headmaster had suggested it at the end of last year, actually. But I guess Professor Snape thought your marks were better."

Padma laughed. "I don't ask him as many questions you mean and I don't get up his nose as much."

It was definitely the right tact to take. Ron Weasley began to guffaw. "Told you it was the asking questions thing, 'Mione."

Hermione went even redder and smacked her friend on the arm. "Shut it."

But the Gryffindor was much pleasanter as they watched the last students leave. When Ron, Harry and Anthony left, the two girls stayed back and ensured the room was tidied up.

"How is it? Helping him, I mean?" Hermione asked tentatively. She was fishing for information, but she wasn't very good at it and Padma could read the desire to report their conversation to Dumbledore that was floating in the uppermost reaches of her mind. Padma hadn't meant to look, but she'd been tentatively reading into Legilimency, and Hermione's mind was wide open.

"Really interesting," said Padma, deciding then and there to ensure the Headmaster heard what she wanted him to. "He doesn't talk to me or anything, but just watching him work is great. I've thus far sliced alihotsy leaves, stirred burn-healing paste, ground boom berries and sliced flobberworms. It's like being in Detention without the scrubbing out of cauldrons."

Padma deliberately used the same words she's used with Morag. If she was brought before the Headmaster, he could see the two conversations in her mind and assume that was how she felt about her time in the lab, akin to being in Detention but by her own desire rather than as a punishment.

Padma was glad she'd almost been chosen to go to Slytherin. The house's ability to look at things in a number of ways, playing with words, meanings and inflections when coupled with her Ravenclaw sense of logic and reason was coming to the fore now. She wondered why in the end the Sorting Hat had sighed and shouted out "Ravenclaw." She'd have been happy to be with Professor Snape in his house. But she supposed her passion for learning was nurtured to a greater extend under Professor Flitwick. The diminutive Charms Master was brilliant and kind. He tended to mollycoddle his favourites and she knew she was one of them since her second best subject after Potions had always been Charms. Professor Snape had no time to nurture his students; his struggle was much more visceral, caught as he frequently was between life and death at the hands of the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord.

Hermione though had been silent as they finished up their room organisation. As they left, Padma causally asked, "Were you especially keen to work in Potions? Only, I know Professor Flitwick would be happy to have help with the first-years for Charms."

Hermione blushed. "No, I've got plenty to do with O.W.L.s coming up and helping Harry with this, it's just that Potions seems so important and..." but Hermione trailed off, blushing.

Padma gasped in a manner she knew her sister always did. "Do you have a crush on him or something Granger?"

Hermione blushed and quickly shook her head. "No, never, it's just that the Headmaster said he needed help."

It was obvious to Padma that Hermione had been intended to be plant. Sure she enjoyed the subject, but given the openings Padma had laid before her, the Gryffindor hadn't waxed lyrical about Potions or the Potions Master. She truly was blind to his beauty and brilliance. For a moment, revulsion nearly coloured Padma's face. But she ensured that all she presented to Hermione was an understanding manner.

"I understand. I'm sorry. You could always ask for a Detention and watch him work on his brewing if you want."

The look on Hermione's face was priceless. "Ask for a Detention?"

"Well, that's what it is like you know. I get to the lab at six thirty in the morning and slice flobberworms. If that's not Detention, what is?" Padma ensured her face was deadly serious. She wanted the Gryffindor to not ever work her way down to the dungeons. If she thought the whole thing was distasteful, the harder it would be for Dumbledore to convince her to somehow con her way into Severus' presence.

* * *

><p>AN: Love it or hate it, please let me know what you think.


	14. Chapter 14

**Part XIV**

**Slytherin Guile**

* * *

><p>(i) The characters and world of Harry Potter are the property of the brilliant J.K. Rowling. I make no money from this.<p>

(ii) Please read and review. I would love to know what you think of the story.

* * *

><p>Rabastan Lestrange was a thin, nervous looking man with dark brown hair and a rakish looking beard that he'd kept since his release from Azkaban. Rabastan always appeared weaker, a follower rather than a leader. It was an image he'd worked hard to build, learning from an early age the value of letting everyone assume he did what his older brother Rodolphus wanted him to. It had saved him many a beating and funnily enough the loyalty and protectiveness of his cold brother who treated him like a pet.<p>

Now, the thin, dark man, who was in truth a brilliant strategist and Snape's best friend, casually meandered over to the Potions Master.

"Watch your back, Brother," Rabastan murmured furtively to Severus as they stood awaiting the pleasure of the Dark Lord. "Our beloved sister is convinced that you are the old twinkler's toy."

Severus nodded and grasped Rabastan's arm. "Thank you. But my devotion to my Master and my cause is unchanged. Be careful yourself."

Rabastan laughed. "I always am. You know that."

Severus smirked. Then, after ensuring that their continuing conversation wasn't garnering unwanted attention, he went on, "If you have need of potions, healing, ask me, Rabby. I bloody worry about you all alone with our dearest Inner Circle. You're not strong like they are. You never have been."

Rabastan smirked in turn. "Oh, I assure you that no one is paying undue attention to the weak nervous fool that I am. I have accepted my fate to amounting to nothing but a look-out at best while others do their duty to the Dark Lord. My latest tragedy is that my magic keeps failing me. I couldn't even kill a house-elf yesterday, even though Bella kept urging me to concentrate. I'm no use for raids now you know."

Severus' eyes looked at his old friend carefully. "That is a pity. I suppose it is the result of your trials at Azkaban. Yes, it can happen, especially to those of a nervous disposition. Rest is the only answer, perhaps somewhere warm."

"Ah," said Rabastan, his bright, almost navy blue eyes sparkling. "I doubt I'll be allowed far from the Manor. In my weakened state I would be a sitting duck. But I'll take it under advisement."

The two friends had spoken thus since the time the Dark Lord had begun scrutinising their thought via Legilimency. Rabastan for all his learning had never been able to have shields as strong as Severus', even though the two had practised together on many occasions. Now they talked via innuendo, ensuring that whatever they said could always pass the Dark Lord's inspection. And yet, they both knew that what they had said and understood was very different to what was the surface meaning of their conversation.

Not long after Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange led the way into the Dark Lord's inner chambers. They were followed by Rodolphus, who turned around to ensure that Rabastan was not far behind.

Severus nodded politely at the older Lestrange and trailed his friend into the Dark Lord's presence, taking his place, as usual in the semi-circle that fanned out from around the Dark Lord's throne.

"Severus, my slippery friend," said Voldemort as soon as they had taken their appointed places and made their genuflections.

Severus looked up to meet the Dark Lord's shrewd red eyes. "My Lord."

"I hear you've taken help. Help from one of the Ravenclaws. Has Dumbledore finally managed to install a spy in your private chambers?"

"No, my Lord," said Severus, meeting the Dark Lord's gaze without flinching. "She is my way of avoiding having the Mudblood Granger given to me to be of service."

Severus lingered on the words, making them sound as crude as he could.

He heard Lucius and Rodolphus guffaw in the background. The Dark Lord smiled. "A Ravenclaw, Severus?"

"Neutral, my Lord. She's a pureblood, intelligent and unconnected too closely to those interfering Gryffindors." Severus sneered at Pettigrew who was standing like a page or footman behind the Dark Lord's high chair.

The Dark Lord noticed the direction of Snape's glance and chuckled. It sounded like nails scratching against a chalkboard and Severus struggled to keep his face impassive.

"Twisty, Severus, very twisty." Then the Dark Lord stood up and began to pace. "My dearest Bella is convinced that you are loyal to Dumbledore and his merry band."

Severus shook his head forcefully. "No, my Lord, I swear this isn't so. I have stayed true. I have never warmed to them. Never given them succour or friendship. All in the school know that I detest the sight of Potter, that I despise the twinkling buffoon that is the Headmaster."

"And yet, you scurry back to them to report of our meetings, do you not?"

These questions had been asked many times. But never had they been asked so publicly. Usually the questions followed punishments, or came with the punishments and lessons. This was different. This required careful handling.

Severus dropped to his knees. "My Lord, I only do as I was bid all those years ago. If I have faltered, you would see it in my mind. I am yours today, my Lord, as I was then."

The Dark Lord threw back his head and laughed. "I know. And if you had doubts as to where your loyalty lay, they would have been erased with my lessons. Is that not so?"

"My Lord is wise in all things," responded Severus.

"Quite so," said the Dark wizard and waved Severus back to his place.

The creature that was once Tom Riddle turned to address Rodolphus next about the breeding programme he was in charge of. Severus listened, trying to pay attention and follow the oblique conversation even as a part of him wondered what the questions had been about. How had it differed from the usual conduct? Had someone been listening? Was that why Severus had been required to state publicly and in front of the Inner Circle his supposed loyalty?

Severus worried at the information and then let it go. It would come to him being seen by all as a loyal follower of the Dark Lord. They knew it would at some point. He'd prepared for that eventuality. There was no point borrowing trouble.

He instead listened next as Lucius was questioned about the progress that was being made with the vampires.

Once the meeting broke up, Lucius being assigned to lead a raid with the minions to a Muggle supermarket in Stoke-on-Trent, Severus followed Rabastan towards the buffet laid out on the outer room.

Rabastan smirked and selected a number of items, Severus following him and selecting exactly the same food. Then, the two meandered to a corner, where they took seats side-by-side on the straight-backed chairs that lined the wall.

Their ritual was long established. Rabastan would check his food for poison, and then Severus would do the same to his plate. Then the two would swap plates and check again before eating. Ostensibly they were ensuring no pranks were played, Rabastan having grown anal about it as a young boy, who had succumbed too many times to his older brother and his friends' jokes. But it was much more serious in Severus' case; something he knew given the change in Rabastan's situation was much the same, too. They both had too much to lose to be taken unawares in any way.

As they ate they talked about general things. They talked about the changes that Rabastan had made since their last discussion to his orchid collection. Eventually, once they'd talked about the trial he was running to measure the nutrients in the soil and its acidic content, they moved on to the benefits of dragon dung as opposed to hippogriff manure. The discussion then turned to an article they had both read in _Herbology Today_ when finally, thankfully they heard the quiet sound of a scurrying rat.

The two friends smirked at each other. Pettigrew had finally grown bored of their talk. They had proved, after all, over the many weeks that they had sat like this and conversed that they could talk about Herbology and Rabastan's renewed passion for orchid growing for hours on end.

Assured, at least for the moment that they were not being spied upon, the conversation quickly turned to important matters.

"Is she a plant by the Dark Lord?" asked Rabastan quickly.

"No," stated Severus. "Don't worry. I'm safe enough for the moment. How are you? Do you need extraction? I've not said a word to the meddler, but if you need help, ask me. I'm in a position to help if the worst comes to it."

"No," said Rabastan emphatically. "I'm all right. Bella's stopped playing with me now that I can't even kill successfully. She's fucking Lucius and Rodolphus at the moment; Avery and McNair on occasion."

Severus shook his head. "That's not what I meant."

Rabastan laughed. "I know. But I'm all right. Rodolphus has always found my deference for him enough to ensure that she doesn't play with me alone. He understands that I only comply because it makes him happy. He finds me too puritanical in my sexuality, but it means he trusts me above all others to protect his interests. I'm fine."

Severus sighed.

Rabastan stretched his long legs forward and settled more comfortably in his chair. "Rodolphus is not making progress with getting the Dementors to breed. But it will happen. Soon I think. Bella is obsessed with obtaining something from the Ministry. She and Lucius are working on it together as a joint project. It is so hush hush that they don't even discuss it in the Inner Circle."

Severus frowned. "How do you know and why are you telling me?"

Rabastan narrowed his eyes and glared at his friend. "Don't take me for a fool, Severus. I know that you are not stupid or blind. And only one who has no concept of the horror the world would be would still, willingly follow our beloved Lord. A man of sense could not live in the world he wants to create. I may have believed, but that was a life-time ago. I had time to think in Azkaban. Bella's madness at least ensured that I was left alone more often than not. I know what kind of world I want to occupy if I'm ever free from the ties of my beloved family."

The mocking voice, the angry glare all convinced Severus that Rabastan spoke the truth. But it seemed too pat. No matter their friendship, the two had never, not once, spoken so clearly.

"What has brought this on?" asked Severus setting aside his now empty plate.

"It is time. Time I stopped hiding. Time I did something to free myself." Rabastan growled softly, his agitation obvious.

"Walk with me," said Severus. "You are showing too much emotion for a discussion on dung varieties."

Rabastan laughed. "The world and I are going to the dung heap, Brother."

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><p>AN: Love it or hate it, please let me know what you think.


	15. Chapter 15

**Part XV**

**Reasons why**

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><p>(i) The characters and world of Harry Potter are the property of the marvellous J.K. Rowling. I make no money from this.<p>

(ii) Please read and review. I would love to know what you think of the story.

* * *

><p>Severus and Rabastan made their unhurried way to the water gardens that lay on the east side of the Malfoy Manor in silence. They were still observed, but the gardens were more deserted and the dark made conversing in private slightly easier. It would definitely aid Rabastan in hiding his extreme facial reactions.<p>

"Now no nonsense, Rabby," said Severus once they'd reached the secluded pagoda. The water lapped gently and made overhearing conversation difficult. Severus' Muffliato spell did the rest. "What the fuck is going on? If I was as fantastically devoted to our Lord as our sister Bella is you'd be dead by now."

Rabastan sighed and turned to look Severus directly. "I'm researching soul-mate and soul-magic for the Dark Lord. He's still chasing immortality, his Horcrux creation has obviously not been enough to feed his grandiose tendencies."

Severus nearly swallowed his tongue in surprise at the mention of Horcruxes. Rabastan Lestrange was either a wonderfully positioned tool to gage Severus' true loyalties, or he'd lost his mind.

Rabastan laughed. "Yes, Brother, Horcrux creation, soul-splitting and more than I can even guess at. That's what our beloved Dark Lord is doing. And from what I can gather, there are multiple Horcruxes."

He pulled out his wand and blasted some nearby shrubs. When he was done, he let his hand drop to his side. He was shaking.

Severus reached out and touched him. Narcissa would throw a fit if her gardens were damaged beyond easy repair. "Talk to me, Rabby. Please."

Rabastan turned 'round and looked at Severus. "I've been dabbling with some of the soul-mate spells, purely for research purposes, of course. Most of them are rubbish, pure wishful thinking really. But some, some work, old man. I found one that helped me not see the person per se, but identify the kind of person that would suit."

Severus was confused. None of this made sense. But he held his tongue.

Rabastan blew out a harsh breath. "I found a spell that gives the searcher the tools needed to find their rightful, perfect other half. My other half is supposedly a Mudblood. It would balance our in-breeding, that's for sure. She'd also be highly intelligent, diligent and supposedly mad about research. Oh, and a Gryffindor. Again to balance the never-ending Slytherin traits in the bloodline."

Severus listened. Finally, when he saw that Rabastan wasn't going to say any more, he pulled his friend over to the edge of the pool and conjured a rough wooden bench out of a few fallen leaves.

"The only Gryffindor of that nature that immediately springs to mind is the Potter brat's annoyingly irritating side-kick, Granger."

Rabastan Lestrange laughed. The sound was bitter with irony. "Yes. I know. If Lily hadn't been killed so many years ago, she might have come close to fitting the bill, but I never really liked her. Vain little creature who thought the sun shone out of her bloody arse."

Severus felt his anger rise at this description of his beloved Lily but he let Rabastan's words go. This was not the time to take umbrage about a woman who was dead. He needed to look at the bigger picture, to not lose track of the goal posts.

Rabastan looked at Severus. He grinned ruefully. "I know you wanted to get into her pants. But," he shook his head and kicked his heels desolately against the bench, "my ideal woman, my soul-mate is a brash, brilliant, forthright Gryffindor."

He shuddered in an exaggerated fashion. "I know. I'm destined for the mad house. But, I want to taste the pleasure that can come from being with my soul-mate. The sex is supposed to be incomprehensible. And given the traits that my soul-mate is supposed to have, there'll be plenty of passion and enthusiasm. For that alone I'm willing to accept her. And if I'm to ever have a chance at winning her affections, then it must be in a world that is not ruled by our beloved maniac. He would carve out my heart with a blunt spoon, then he would remove my entrails and use them to drag me about. Then, and only then would he begin to torture me with Madam Crucio until I lost my bloody mind."

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><p>AN: Love it or hate it, please let me know what you think.


	16. Chapter 16

**Part XVI**

**Sneering Slytherins**

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><p>(i) The characters and world of Harry Potter are the property of the marvellous J.K. Rowling. I make no money from this.<p>

(ii) Please read and review. I would love to know what you think of the story.

* * *

><p>Severus was reeling from Rabastan's revelations. He'd learned more than he had expected to through their conversation. Rabastan's change of heart, the Dark Lord's Horcrux creation, soul-magic and now this. Granger as Rabastan's soul-mate was not only stunning, it was also disturbing. It meant that finding one's other half in someone that young was not only a possibility, but given the nature and temperament of men like himself and Rabby, a distinct probability. They liked to be in control, their dominance aroused by the thought of someone younger, more malleable.<p>

The two friends were quiet as they meandered their way back to the Manor. Rabastan, Severus assumed was going over all that he had revealed. If Severus was truly a double agent for the Dark Lord, Rabastan Lestrange would feel their master's wrath. And if Severus didn't betray his old friend, and the Dark Lord was using these tantalising bits of information to test his spy, Severus would be tortured, healed and tortured again until everything that he was would be no more. The thought was terrifying, but then, Severus had known the risks from the outset when he'd gone on bended knee to Dumbledore all those years ago.

Severus sighed audibly. "Rabby, old chap," he said before they entered the Manor. "Are you," but then he stopped. He didn't even know what to ask, what to say. He had not felt this wrong-footed among his brethren in years.

Rabastan Lestrange grimaced and reached out to touch Severus' shoulder. "Take me to the old fool if you have to, I'll submit to drinking Veritaserum, allow him to do a mind-probe, whatever."

Severus shook his head. "No. We need to play this carefully. We don't know if there are other spies, on either side."

Rabastan frowned, but allowed his friend to lead the way. "Whatever you think is best, Sev," he said. "But know that I am sincere. That my long held position as weak fool allows me access to vital information."

Severus raised his eyebrow in question.

His friend smirked in response.

No one seeing that look would ever mistake the younger Lestrange for a weakling.

"Roddy has always talked to me, you know that. Now that he feels that I'm almost a squib, he lords it more over me. And of course, he feels the need to express his pity, he wants me to feel a part of everything. And in my state, all I'm good for now is research. Research that I am more than happy to do for them all. Take it as my share of the fight, as it were."

Severus nodded. "And you know, you're always welcome to confer with me and use all the books that I have collected over the years. They can't compare to the Malfoy, Black and Lestrange collections, but," he stopped and smirked in turn, "I've also got access to the restricted sections of Hogwarts."

"Indeed," said Rabastan, grinning evilly, "indeed."

Their plans tentatively made, the two finally entered the grand drawing room of the Manor. Lucius had just returned victorious from their raid on defenceless Muggles. It was time to now torture and play with the faithful who had incurred their Master's anger.

Severus prepared himself mentally. He was often chosen for celebratory lessons. But this time it seemed he'd escaped. The Dark Lord's focus was instead on Avery.

Severus watched through the doors of the drawing room as Avery was brought in and made to kneel in front of their master. As the punishments began, privately, the Dark Lord berated Avery on his failure to explain why Bode could not procure what they sought.

The obliqueness of the references, coupled with the words that indicated Lucius had been responsible for placing an Imperius on Bode allowed Severus to gleam that the thing which they sought was in the Ministry.

Severus knew Dumbledore was playing a deep game, but he was growing weary of only being given parts of the puzzle. His job was so much harder because most of the time he was working blind. Dumbledore would insist that the less Severus knew, the easier it would be for him to face Tom Riddle. But it only made Severus' place more precarious.

Frowning, Severus did his best to piece together what was going on. Hopefully, now that Rabastan was working to supply him with information, things would be, if not easier, then at least, somewhat clearer. He was glad he'd decided not to take his friend to Dumbledore.

Once Avery's punishment was over, the Dark Lord swept away with Bellatrix and Rodolphus. Severus, Lucius and Rabastan walked towards Malfoy Manor's gates together.

"Cissy thinks you've taken the chit as your assistant because of her," said Lucius sneering nastily. "She's convinced you take her words seriously."

"I do," responded Severus. "Your wife is a jewel of rarity. She is kind and thoughtful, and I do take her advice to heart."

Lucius' eyes narrowed. He could not speak against his wife, and he could not refute the praise that was given to his family.

Rabastan laughed. "Our Potions' Master has long held Cissy in high esteem."

Severus did his best to look abashed. "You don't understand, Rabby," he said as though in confidence. "Narcissa has been my friend and has guided me in so many ways. I consider myself blessed to be favoured with such an honour. Lucius as a Malfoy cannot even begin to understand how lucky he is to know instinctively what is right and wrong. Growing up as I did, well, I've needed a helping hand."

Lucius preened at this praise and his ere reseeded. "Draco would have liked to have been chosen," he said instead.

Severus turned to look at the blond. "I would not demean my Godson by giving him the work of a skivvy. Besides, it is beneath a Malfoy to fetch and carry for the old meddler."

The look on Lucius' face was worth all the blandishments Severus had been sprouting. It caused Severus both relief and heartache. But he ignored his feelings as he had learned to do for many years. No matter the pain it caused him to realise people were so easy to manipulate, this was his lot as spy for both the Dark Lord and Dumbledore. He dealt in words, twisty, grey words. The Dark Lord was right in calling him a twisty individual, he told them what they wanted to hear and a few truths coupled with his lies allowed people to see things the way he wanted them to.

Allowing nothing to show on his face, he bowed formerly to the two wizards and Apparated to Hogwarts.

Severus trudged up the long drive to the castle with a thoughtful look on his face. He was tired and although for once not in physical pain, the actions he'd witnessed caused him to wonder about the people he still considered his friends. Lucius as a young man had had so much promise, he'd looked after his younger house-mates with slightly indifferent, yet, genuine feeling. To see that man now turned into a murderer hurt.

And Draco was being moulded to be a younger version of his father. Severus knew his Godson had a tender heart, but that was hidden behind walls of cold indifference, arrogance and a feeling of entitlement. If only there was a way to save the young man. But at the moment, there was nothing Severus could do. He could only speak obliquely.

Severus sighed. Draco would be watching and reporting on his interactions with Miss Patil. No matter the genuine affection Severus had for Draco, he would have to, as always, guard his interactions with the young man.

He swallowed the second sigh that was bubbling up inside of him. He had known from the start that this was a tricky road to take. And he's warned his Ravenclaw. She knew the stakes in the game, too. There was no use worrying about this now, but he acknowledged that he would have to talk to Dumbledore and his young assistant about what was going on.

He went up to report to Dumbledore immediately. Not being tortured meant he was fit enough to get that awful job done before attempting some sleep.

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><p>AN: Love it or hate it, please do let me know what you think.


	17. Chapter 17

**Part XVII**

**Dark Thoughts**

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><p>(i) The characters and world of Harry Potter are the property of the fabulous J.K. Rowling. I make no money from this.<p>

(ii) Please read and review. I would love to know what you think of the story.

* * *

><p>Back in her dormitory Padma mulled over all that she had learned through Hermione. She wondered if she should try making her way down to the dungeons. Not having curfew meant that even if Filch caught her, she could just say that she was doing a late night round. But it was a stupid thing to do, she knew that. There was no point arousing suspicion. Everyone now knew that she was acting as an assistant to Professor Snape. If she was seen heading towards the dungeons late at night tongues would wag that they were having a liaison. If her sister even heard a whisper, her mother would hear of it and then the shit really would hit the fan. She didn't want her golden opportunity taken away from her before she'd had time to enjoy him, learn him and be of real assistance to him. And given the truly dangerous situation her Severus was in, the less attention she drew upon them the better.<p>

Once ensconced in her four-poster, she tossed and turned, worried about him and all that he was doing. How strong he must be to carry on for so long, alone and without obvious aid. Her respect and admiration for his skill and cunning, bravery and steadfastness grew as the minutes ticked by. And he was without the real aid of Dumbledore. She'd, like others at Hogwarts thought that the old Headmaster was strong and powerful. He might still be those things, but her interaction had taught her that he had weaknesses, too. Weaknesses that weren't that difficult to exploit. It made things that much more dangerous for the role the man she loved had to play.

She turned to lie on her back, starring unseeingly at the dark canopy of her bed. She'd go down in the morning. Decided, she turned again and punched her pillow. She sighed and tried to settle down. If she went down first thing, it would just seem to her room-mates that she was eager to get on with work.

She knew she needed to report her conversation with Hermione to her dark desire. He needed to know how she'd played her hand, what she'd learned. She huffed a breath. "Never lie to yourself." Her dadi-maa's words were clear in her mind. This was merely the excuse she was giving herself for returning the very next morning to the dungeons. She was going to see him because she wanted to spend as much time as she could with her Potions Master.

She knocked on the door to his laboratory at half past six the next morning without hesitation. Her twin would be so shocked to see her so keen to be in the dark man's presence.

The silky voice that called, "Enter," was not as brusque as usual. Long association had taught Padma that that in itself was a warning. She donned her persona of Gryffindor, learned from watching Parvati in action and walked in, chin up and shoulders back.

It was definitely Snape, not Professor Snape or even Severus who greeted her with a sardonic eyebrow. Padma was unable to suppress the shiver that raced through her. He looked dangerous.

She gulped in a breath, very aware that he had immediately noted her reaction to him, and continued as calmly as she could to his side. "I know I wasn't expected this morning, Professor," she said, "but I had an interaction with Hermione and I thought you should know about it."

Her words seemed to diffuse the situation somewhat. His manner seemed to ease a little bit.

Severus sighed and put down the silver knife he was using to slice the Harlequin toad legs off at the joint. "We might as well sit. I have things to tell you, too."

Padma nodded. She followed the dark man to his desk and sat on the hard backed chair he kept for visitors. "Tea, sir?" she asked hesitantly.

"We might as well," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. It was far too early for all of this.

The elf seemed to have been listening out for the chit. She had barely called out his name when he appeared, tea tray and fruits neatly arranged.

Mundy did not linger. One look at the Master of Potions face was enough to ensure the elf placed the tray on the table and vanished without further ado.

Padma bit back her sigh. Why did she love him again? But she knew that his bad mood was something that she'd have to get used to if she wanted to be with him. And she was learning how to diffuse the situation.

She poured the tea and handed him a cup before giving him a selection of melon balls and kiwi slices.

Severus took the offered plate and leaned back in his chair. "Speak," he said imperiously.

Padma swallowed her smile. Her little show of kindness and he had mellowed into grumpy acceptance.

Preparing her own cup, she narrated how things had panned out at the D.A. meeting.

Severus listened without interruption.

Padma was fascinated at the stillness and silence that followed. Eventually, he nodded.

"Nothing we didn't know before, then," he said. "But you did well, Miss Patil."

Hearing the softly voiced praise filled Padma with elation.

His voice was flat though as he went on. "The Dark Lord has been made aware of your assistance in my laboratory. Draco is feeling slighted and although I have done my best to mitigate the situation, he and his cohorts will be watching you and me. You will have to be cautious and vigilant at all times."

Padma nodded. "I will, sir." She now understood the reason for his praise. She bit her lip, thoughtfully. "Should I guard against attack or something?"

Severus shook his head. "No, I doubt that they will do anything so openly. They know that to do so would earn my wrath. No, they will be much more subtle. Do you trust your dorm-mates?"

Padma stilled. "Four others share the room with me. Morag, Sue, Lisa and Mandy."

"Do you trust them?" Severus demanded.

Padma had never thought of them in that way. Ravenclaws were known to be cerebral. Overly competitive even. But would Sue, Lisa and Mandy backstab her? "I don't know," she said, quietly. "Not Morag, I know she won't. But as for the others, we aren't particular friends. We get on. But we've got our own interests. Lisa and Mandy hang out together. Sue is a bit of a loner really. She's fairly close to Choo and Marietta, but not really, since they are older."

Severus frowned. "Cultivate your dorm-mates. Ensure that they are on your side. That you know where their loyalties lie."

Padma nodded. She'd agreed to all of this. She'd asked to be made a part of the coming confrontation and yet, now, all of this suddenly brought home to her how close the fighting was going to be. It was going to be friend against friend, brother against sister. She had not forgotten, could not forget that her maternal uncle had been inducted into the outer rings of the Death Eaters.

They finished the tea in silence. But the moments of quietness were short. Tea done, Severus stood up and she followed him back to their morning's tasks.

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><p>AN: Love it or hate it, please let me know what you think.


	18. Chapter 18

**Part XVIII**

**Eavesdropping**

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><p>(i) The characters and world of Harry Potter are the property of the fabulous J.K. Rowling. I make no money from this.<p>

(ii) Please read and review. I would love to know what you think of the story.

* * *

><p>Minerva McGonagall was not known for being stupid. Blind, well, yes, she supposed that that fault could be allowed, but stupid, no, definitely not. But she felt far more than stupid as she backed away hastily from the conversation she had inadvertently almost walked in on.<p>

Her first reaction on seeing them had been to scold the young men. What were they doing in the deserted Transfiguration classroom this late in the evening? But their conversation was too filled with righteous indignation for her to dismiss it as a prank of some sort. And the chance to listen in to the scions of two illustrious houses known to have Death Eater sympathies was too good to miss.

The two youngsters were sat on the window ledge of the classroom, almost hidden by the thick drapes. Malfoy had pulled up his knees to lean against the one side of the alcove. It was a casual pose she'd never imagined the blond capable of. Nott was turned to look out of the window, one knee bent under him to make himself fit better in the fairly tight space.

Draco Malfoy was examining his nails. His tone was too complex for Minerva to fully understand. But she could see that the two were deep in conversation and had no idea that they were being observed.

"Father said that Dumbles was trying to get Granger to seduce uncle Severus, thereby, I suppose ensuring his true cooperation, but I wouldn't have thought it was possible."

Theodore Nott snorted. "Granger has the subtlety of a meat cleaver. There's no chance she'd succeed with him. At least Patil's got a chance."

Draco chuckled. "Father said that Uncle Severus had assured him that the choice of Patil was because she was seen as neutral by old Dumbles. Although, her sister is a Gryf. We'll have to make sure he's not being played. Uncle Severus is smart, I'll give you that, but a pretty face might turn him."

"Just don't let him catch you at it," said Theo. "You know how possessive he is."

Draco laughed. "No fear. I will be careful. I'm practising Occlumency most days anyway after old Dumbles tried a mind probe when he thought I wasn't being attentive. How dare he? Even if I was not in two minds about my loyalties, no matter what Father's lectures are about the Dark Lord and his power, I'd still follow him if old Dumbles is the alternative. Can you imagine the cheek? How does he expect to win people like me over if he's illegally doing inept mind-probes? Doesn't he know that pureblood children like us know how to tell when someone is trying to go fishing? Granger and her sort might be blind to his tampering, but surely, he doesn't think we are all that dim?"

Theo sneered. "He thinks he's the Lord of the Light. He has had no one to challenge him since his lover Grindlewalt was defeated. Of course he thinks everyone is a moron compared to him."

Draco nodded. "Father told me to make sure I build bridges this year. Father is suspicious of Uncle Severus' true loyalties, but it is so hard to decide who really owns his allegiance. We can't tip our hand if he is truly for the Dark Lord. Imagine if we were wrong in our supposition? Mother is sure that Godfather would never, ever betray us but Father is more cautious. It is imperative that we make our own connections, pave the way for our own survival. We can't expect Uncle Severus to do it for us. But it is so hard."

Draco sighed aloud and turned to look out of the window, too. "The Mudblood has no manners. She just doesn't seem to want to learn etiquette. How are we to give ourselves some options if the bloody Gryf's don't even understand that I'm trying to extend the hand of friendship? Potter hated me from the first, I tried making friends with him both on the train and at Madam Malkins while we were being fitted for our school robes."

Theo sighed softly. "I'm trying to talk to the Puffs. At least most of them have some manners and the pureblood families do understand loyalty."

Draco nodded. "But the Puffs are treated like morons by the Gryfs. We need to make connections with them, not the other houses. We've got enough long-standing relationships with the Puffs and Ravens to make things at least cordial."

"Do you think the Dark Lord will fail?" asked Theo tentatively.

"Father sure hopes so," said Draco.

Minerva nearly swallowed her tongue at that statement. What? What in Merlin's name was going on?

"You know I can't talk about any of this with Vince and Greg. They aren't able to do subtle. But well... after the latest run in with Dumbles and Potter's bloody arrogance and Weasley's conviction that we are all already Death Eaters sometimes I feel that there's no point even trying to find some kind of middle ground with them. They are convinced we are evil, and so that is what we forced to become."

Theo nodded. "Apparently Potter's saintly father and Godfather tormented and nearly killed Professor Snape while at school and Dumbles told Professor Snape that he could never talk about it to anyone. And then Potter and Black were given a week's detention. That's the value Dumbles placed on the life of a Slytherin student. One week's detention. No wonder then Professor Snape joined the Dark Lord as soon as he could. How could he ever believe a word that Dumbles spoke of love and fairness. He'd bloody showed that he thought his Gryfs could do no wrong, that they were more important than the life of a Slytherin student."

"How do you know?" asked Draco. His voice was whisper quiet in shock.

Theo sighed. "Do you remember the time that I was sent to the Headmaster's office to receive that parcel I got from my granduncle Matteo?"

Draco nodded.

"It contained a dark spell book, which Dumbles wanted to talk to me about before releasing it to me. The school's wards had detected it coming in the post. It wasn't really dangerous. Just a primer, but you know how anal Dumbles is. Anything that gives you control is bad, purely because it is supposedly Dark. Nutter. As if the hexes we learn for healing can't be used to kill creatively."

Draco chuckled. "Short sighted, arrogant, so sure he knows everything about Dark, instinctive magic that he dismisses it all as evil. It's what we were before logic and reason, it isn't Dark, it is so much more."

"Yes," agreed Theo. "But the Muggle-lovers have never understood our stance. Gryfs have always assumed our need to defend Dark Magic, I mean, it was them who coined the bloody term, we just used to call it Old Magic, is because we are evil. No, we aren't evil. We understand that to wield strong magic, magic that Merlin himself used in the Dark Ages, requires knowing oneself, of having control and never, ever overstepping ones assumptions that Magic is something controllable. We are controlled by it – we are creatures ruled by it."

Draco nodded. "Not teaching it, that's the reason Father says people like the Dark Lord were so seduced into it. He thought that wielding it made him powerful. It does, of course it does, but it bleeds away his humanity, makes him less than what a true Wizard should be, not more so."

Theo sighed again. "Anyway, let me get back to what I was saying. Old Dumbles was called away, some emergency, and so I sat in his office. I wanted my parcel. And then I saw the sorting hat and ended up talking to it. The hat offered to show me something interesting if I promised I'd use the information wisely. So I put it on, and it showed me memories of the conversation between Dumbles and Professor Snape."

"Wow," said Draco.

"Yes," Theo breathed. "I've never figured out how I'm supposed to use the information, but since then I've not, well, joined the rest in hexing and teasing the Gryfs. I've started observing them instead and kind of making friends with some of the Puffs and Claws."

Minerva was stunned. This was the last thing in the world she'd ever thought she'd hear. Malfoy and Nott unsure of their allegiance? Malfoy Senior wanting his son to make friends with Potter and his allies? Could it possibly be true.

But Minerva knew it couldn't be a false conversation. It was before curfew, sure, but this part of the castle was generally deserted at this time of the evening. She had been feeling restless and had wondered back towards the Transfiguration classroom to see if there was anything she had left undone. Her faint but accurate sense of foreboding had insisted that she come this way. Now she knew why. She was meant to hear this conversation. If the boys had thought that the classrooms were a safe place to meet, to discuss and given that they'd spread some books on the desks in front of them, possibly even work, she could not fault them.

She sighed silently. She knew she was being lead to believe certain things by Dumbledore. But she'd always assumed that Malfoy and the Slytherins were who they pretended to be. To think they wanted a way out explained so much about Severus' and his joining the Light. She wondered if Dumbledore knew. She couldn't imagine him not knowing. But then, if he felt as she did, he had not told her. But to think that Dumbledore knew and was not reaching out was ghastly. It meant that the man she had trusted and looked up to for so long wanted the war. She knew he wanted to see an end to Dark Magic. She knew he despised the title of Dark Lord. But this, this conversation meant that Dumbledore was wilfully allowing the confrontation to take place in the hope that Harry would defeat the Dark Lord. Didn't Dumbledore realise that there would always be someone to take on the mantle of Dark Lord?

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><p>AN: Love it or hate it, please let me know what you think.


	19. Chapter 19

**Part XIX**

**Gryffindor and Ravenclaw**

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><p>(i) The characters and world of Harry Potter are the property of J.K. Rowling. I make no money from this.<p>

(ii) Please read and review. I would love to know what you think of the story.

* * *

><p>Minerva backed away as silently as she could and made her way back to the staff-room. She wanted to think, carefully and without bias, on all that she had overheard. If she was right she would have to guard her mind and stop believing everything that came from Dumbledore.<p>

As she settled in her comfortable arm-chair by the fire and began to think about what to do next Filius Flitwick entered the room with an armful of parchment.

Minerva had always wondered why Dumbledore had not included the diminutive professor in the Order. He was a champion dueller, he was a brilliant charms teacher and if the articles he seemed to write for _Charms Today _were to be taken into account, then he was in the forefront of research and development. And there was no way that he was Dark or Evil or a supporter of the Dark Lord.

"Filius," said Minerva, a thoughtful note in her voice.

Flitwick turned to look at Minerva in her arm-chair. "What is it, Minnie? What's put that look on your face?"

"I need to talk to you. Well I need to talk to someone I truly trust. I've just heard a few things that have thrown my well-ordered world into a tizzy." Minerva had no way of knowing how bewildered she looked.

Flitwick chuckled kindly, but he couldn't help but preen as he answered. "To know that a witch as formidable as yourself thinks I am worthy of her trust is an honour, Minnie."

Minerva blushed. Had she not ever told the man that he was her friend? She had thought that he had already known what was in her heart. "You are a good friend," she now clarified. "From the very first day we began teaching together, your honesty and straightforwardness impressed me."

Flitwick beamed. "Come, let's adjourn to my quarters. It is more private and I've ensured that we can't be over-heard there. There are advantages to being the Charms Master."

For the first time Minerva realised that all conversations in public spaces were monitored. Perhaps even those in private ones if Flitwick had gone to the trouble of warding his chambers. No wonder Dumbledore seemed all-knowing. He was eavesdropping. Her anger, her dismay at his behaviour moved her to stand up immediately in agreement. She voiced no protest as she followed Flitwick to his rooms on the fourth floor of Ravenclaw Tower.

Once there, over a cup of mulled mead, Minerva narrated everything she had heard. She held nothing back. Flitwick's comfortable rooms, his kind and understanding face, somehow allowed her to get everything off her chest. Her obvious disappointment and shock at the behaviour of someone she had considered her mentor and superior had caused a shaking up of her world.

Flitwick listened without interrupting her. He could see how much the over-heard conversation had altered her thinking. Finally, when she finished he leaned back in his cosy chair and sighed.

"Did you know? Did you suspect that he was like this?" Minerva asked, brokenly.

"Yes," said Flitwick after a long pause. "Minnie, my girl, I don't know how to tell you this, but Dumbledore and I had a falling out a few terms ago. He tried to Obliviate me."

"What?" Minerva's voice was shrill in a shock and horror.

Flitwick nodded, gravely. "It was after I saw Dumbledore give Harry and Hermione instructions to use time-turner. I'll never forget the way he said that they could save more than one life and beamed like a loon. And then, with his blessing, they went off to fight dementors and face an enraged and transformed werewolf."

Minerva looked like she'd swallowed a lemon.

"Just because I'm short does not mean I'm a coward, or indeed a blind buffoon," said the Head of Ravenclaw in anger and frustration. "The Sorting Hat nearly put me in Gryffindor. When I realised, after the fact, what I had witnessed, what he had done, I went to see him. I was shocked that he would be so cavalier with the lives of two under-age children. He had no right. And Black was a known murderer. He never did care a whit for others, and being bi-polar since his youth has always meant that he's seen life and death in rather abstract terms. True, he may not have been responsible for the killing of those Muggles, that is what supposedly sent him to Azkaban, but he was the one who played with the lives of the Potters. I always liked Lily. She had such skill in charms. But Black thought he could play Russian roulette with the truth. Just because he and Potter saw no value in Peter Pettigrew they assumed no one else would either."

Minerva listened. Her eyes were wide, more shocked than she had been before she had entered these chambers.

Flitwick sighed again. "Anyway, when I told him that I thought he was wrong, that he had no right to endanger the children, he said something about acceptable losses and that Harry had to learn to face danger. I think he didn't realise how strong I truly am in my power, how much knowledge I have accumulated in my travels. He thought he could mock me by talking about how the Great Albus Dumbledore was in the know. How he had information that the Dark Lord surely would kill to find out. Then, as a final insult he tried to Obliviate me. He is, as he thinks, the most powerful in Occlumency and Legilimency. But the spell bounced back. There's something about the little bit of Goblin in me that makes tampering with my mind virtually impossible."

Flitwick stood up and began to pace. "He was frightened. If he could have, he would have dismissed me, sacked me then and there. But he knows that I would not have gone quietly. So he did nothing. Said it was shock, anger. I let him get away with it, but I have not been alone with him since. I can't look at him without wanting to shake him. And the way he uses poor Severus. I know what's going on, Minnie. But I can't interfere. Why do you think I was so happy that Miss Patil is helping that poor boy. I will do everything I can to ensure that the aid Severus receives from my house is untainted by the touch of Dumbledore."

Minerva's eyes were filled with impotent rage. "I have trusted that man my whole life. I've listened to him and allowed him to guide me for years. Every time I get close to Severus, Dumbledore steps in to warn me to keep my distance. He's done the same with our relationship too. Always going on about professional distance. No longer. I swear Filius that you and I are friends. True friends. And I am not going to let that twinkling old goat come between us."

Flitwick's face was filled with anger. "I see now. I always thought you found me and my appearance repulsive. You've always refused my offers for tea and a chat. The jealous bastard. He doesn't want you, he can't, given his preferred gender, but he's stopped us from being close. From me courting you."

Minerva blushed. She'd not known, not really, that Flitwick liked her like that. She suddenly felt like a young girl, shy and awkward.

Flitwick chuckled. "That's not how I've imagined telling you how I feel, Minnie. But perhaps it is best. You and I are too old to play games. I have admired you from the first time you and I were assigned Hogsmeade duty together all those years ago. Do you remember? How the snow had fallen and the carriages with the students had been full because Madam Jennings the old Matron had been called out to transport the two idiots who had decided to experiment by mixing their newly purchased Zonko's sweets in the Hogs Head kitchen's soup pot with out-of-date Filibuster fireworks. Everyone was in chaos, and the children and Madam Jennings had been bundled off to Hogwarts. You and I had mopped up the last of the stragglers, and then once they had been sent off with Dumbledore, we walked back together. You had looked so vibrant. Anger, amusement and enjoyment at the suddenly free afternoon all warring for prominence on your expressive face. That was the first time I asked you to join me for a drink in my rooms."

Minerva's face had softened as Flitwick spoke of that long ago day. "I remember Filius. I wanted to join you. To laugh at the children and the interesting shapes some of them had turned into. Do you remember how Yaxley had turned green from the waist up? And my goodness, Sinclair had had two extra arms growing out of his head. He'd been terrified of himself."

Flitwick laughed and laughed, his face a study in glee. "Ooo... yes. The poor boys. They really thought they were going to stay like that forever. I'm so glad you put the fear of the Goddess into them. But of course, it only took a night in the Infirmary before Madam Jennings sorted them out. I think, really, they should have been left to suffer for a week at least. It would have stopped them joining Riddle."

Minerva sighed. "I don't know. Yaxley didn't really think, ever. He was too much like his grandfather Goyle. And Sinclair died too young. In the first rising of Voldemort."

Flitwick nodded. "Which brings us back to this mess. Minnie, you need to learn to guard your mind if you don't know how to already. Also, you must not let him know we are talking. He'll have heard that you came to these rooms. But I think he thinks that I've gotten over how I feel for you. He's not going to interfere with me. But he might try to manipulate you again. Don't let him know that you've wised up. I know it goes against your Gryffindor sensibilities, but it might be prudent to carry on as before."

Minerva nodded her head. She didn't like it. She didn't like deception of any kind. But she knew she had more thinking to do. And she didn't want to tip their hand just yet. The tantalising bits of information about Severus needed to be examined more closely too. If the two boys and Filius were correct, she'd really allowed Dumbledore to manipulate her in far too many ways.

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><p>AN: Love it or hate it, please let me know what you think.


	20. Chapter 20

**Part XX**

**Ravenclaws Plotting**

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><p>(i) The characters and world of Harry Potter are the property of J.K. Rowling. I make no money from this.<p>

(ii) Please read and review. I would love to know what you think of the story.

* * *

><p>Padma had spent the rest of the day thinking about all that she had learned from her Potions Master. Classes were a bit of a blur, and although she did not slack, she could not give them her fullest attention. She was glad Morag sat next to her for both Transfiguration and Charms. By lunch-time though she'd come to some conclusions and began, slowly to start ensuring that she knew her room-mates more thoroughly. Afternoon lessons were thankfully only confined to History of Magic, and for that she could allow herself to take notes and not worry about what she was actually writing down. Besides, Morag and she always studied together. If she had missed out on something important, Morag would let her know.<p>

That evening, in the time before dinner, she sat down and spoke to Morag about what she had learned via Severus. She didn't say too much, but she did allow her friend to know that her presence in the dungeons had been brought to the attention of the Dark Lord. After talking to Morag, she knew she had support for what she wanted to do.

Having a plan was certainly comforting. It helped her to feel she was not blindly groping in the dark.

When Malfoy nodded politely as they were leaving the Great Hall after dinner, she returned his greeting with an equally polite nod of her own. She knew he was evaluating her, but she also knew that her manners were adequate enough for Slytherin sensibilities. Her mother had drummed in the need for proper etiquette, and her family's business interests meant that Western wizarding manners were as deeply instilled in her as those of her ancestral homeland.

That night she didn't go down to the dungeons. She knew Severus would not mind her not going for evening sessions if she went more mornings than expected. It amazed Padma how comfortable she felt in making that assumption. In only a few days of private interactions, she had learned how to read and approach the taciturn man. So, instead, she spent time talking to her room-mates.

Morag, who knew what Padma was about, did not protest when their usual partnership was adjusted to make space for one more. Knowing that their assigned Charms practical was a complex one, Padma casually asked Sue if she would like to join them in their session.

The dark haired girl was surprised at the invitation. Morag and Padma worked together. But she didn't look the gift horse in the mouth, and was happy to practice with them. Padma was better than Sue in Charms and her more deft handling of the wand movements was valuable. All Ravenclaws pursued knowledge.

The three of them laughed as they practised the correct intonation for the charm and then drilled the movement again and again until they could work the needed spell to turn their books into reading out their contents in different voices and accents. The funniest was when Padma managed to get a lurid romance to be read out in her grand-uncle's strong Punjabi accented English.

The next morning, confident that she'd made the needed overtures in friendship, Padma was down in the lab punctually. She'd seen Severus at dinner, so she knew he'd not been called away again the night before. Indeed, she supposed that the Dark Lord would not call his faithful every night since Severus was supposed to maintain some kind of cover.

Severus seemed less sardonic this morning. He responded to her greeting with an almost pleasant nod. "I'm sorry I didn't come last evening," she said quietly, even as Mundy popped in with tea and fruit.

The elf's efficiency brought a smile to her face. She prepared Severus' tea and took it over to his side. "I'm not coming tonight either. I know we agreed two evenings a week, but I think me coming in the mornings is better for the moment. I want to work on the building bridges thing with my room-mates. Besides, Malfoy nodded in greeting last night as I was leaving the Great Hall. I want to see how that develops by giving him room and time to approach me."

Severus had begun to frown as she'd stated that she was not coming down in the evenings to assist him. Now the frown became more fierce, but it also had a thoughtfulness about it. "Are you sure that is wise, Miss Patil?"

She shrugged her shoulders. She wasn't sure. But she thought it was worth trying.

He watched her with shrewd eyes. "How are you going to go about it?"

Padma bit her lip and pulled out a tall stool and sat down at the lab table. "I've already spoken to Morag. I told her that the Dark Lord's been made aware that I am helping you. Her father's a Death Eater. I'm sure she'd know I was discussed at some point."

Severus inclined his head. She was correct. Most of the Death Eaters gossiped. If not admonished to keep things secret, they tended to talk to each other about what was going on. It was a matter of one-upmanship. The more one could narrate the more influence it was supposed one had. He'd used that very verboseness to his advantage on more than one occasion to pass false messages back to the Dark Lord.

"What did she say?" Severus was curious.

"She worried about me being in danger. When I said I felt afraid of the others, she assured me that Sue would never do anything to disrupt the neutrality of her family. Their loyalty cannot be bought. They are the last of the Yang Dynasty wizards. They are pureblood and therefore understand the need to maintain blood purity. But, they also know that blood status cannot be the only marker for excellence."

Severus nodded his head. He'd never heard of any of the Chinese wizarding families joining forces with Voldemort. Indeed, the Dark Lord tended to ignore magic that stemmed from outside Europe. Even the Americas weren't of interest to him. He was under the impression that if he controlled Europe, he controlled the world. Severus had never dissuaded him of this notion. Voldemort was stuck in a rut, a rut that had not taken in the changing fortunes of the world following the end of the Muggles' second world war. Britain's empire had been flourishing when Tom Riddle had lived in an orphanage. That was the Muggle world he knew. The less the mad-man knew of present politics and history the better.

Padma laced her hands together. "Morag suggested we talk to the other three about me helping you. Let them know that I have Professor Flitwick's approval, which I do. But also let it be known that you have given me your protection, protection that stems from the Dark Lord's knowledge and approval of my position as your assistant. Then, if things get hairy, either with the Gryffindors or Malfoy's lot, they'll be more cautious about taking sides."

"That's good thinking," Severus was forced to acknowledge.

"I'll tell Morag," said Padma with a grin. "She'll be glad to know you approve."

Severus frowned.

"Don't worry," said Padma. "She's not going to think that we talk like this. But I'll just say that you questioned me thoroughly when I said I would be missing tonight's brewing session."

Severus nodded his head. "I will not warn you again to be careful. I leave you to sort out your House. But, if you have need, please do not be afraid to come to me."

She beamed at him and he felt a trembling begin deep inside. She was so young, so beautiful. So innocent despite her quick-thinking and cleverness.

"I will sir." Padma felt as though his words acknowledged their growing bond. In her youthful romantic heart, it felt like a passionate declaration of devotion. Emboldened, she reached out and touched his hand that lay on the table.

Severus blushed. He'd not expected the minx to be so forward. But even as he quickly drew his hand away and frowned at her, he could see that the colour in his cheeks had given him away.

He wanted to say something cutting. But her face was so open. He could not resist dipping into her mind, seeing her rosy thoughts about him as her hero. She was delusional but, it pleased him in a way he could not quite understand.

"To work," he said instead. "I want you to distil this new shipment of oil of Myrrh that arrived last evening from Mr. Mulpepper's Apothecary."

Padma nodded and began setting up for the task. She knew that distilling oil of Myrrh was important for creating the Spirit of Myrrh, which had disinfectant properties and was used to clean the wounds in the treatment of mad dog bites. Given what she knew of Professor Lupin's condition, and what a shock that had been when the gossip about that circulated, she supposed it would be an ingredient in the Wolfsbane Potion. Knowing how important it was therefore, she took extra care and worked quietly and cautiously.

Severus watched her for a few moments. When he was sure she knew what she was doing, he went back to the Vitamix Potion he was brewing. It was not difficult to make, but it required careful heating so as not to burn the wormwood and asphodel root. The monkshood had to go into the copper cauldron at exactly the right temperature too or it would boil over and make the brew useless.

Padma finally sat down once the distilling process was under way. Now it was merely waiting until the process was complete. As she sat and watched her professor stirring in the asphodel root, she marvelled at his strong hands. They made the stirring of the copper rod look effortless when she knew that it was not. To keep doing the motion, non-stop for the next five minutes was hard work.

She allowed herself to wonder at her own bravery in touching the feared Bat of the Dungeons, in pursuing him romantically. She was still a little shocked that he'd not thrown her out for her temerity. He was a hardened Death Eater. She could not forget the man who had greeted her yesterday morning in the lab. And yet, today, he was different. Anthony would not have been as taken aback at her touch as he had obviously been. He was such a puzzle. Complex, changeable and so very touchy. And yet, she would take him above all others.

Padma had just begun to wash up and put away the distilling equipment when there was a knocking on the door.

"Enter," said Severus curtly. He'd been so engrossed in the comforting companionship that came from sharing the lab with someone who was genuinely fond of potions that the disturbance was an unwanted one. His Ravenclaw could keep her mouth shut and work without needless chatter. As his mind had looked for all possible outcomes from her trying to talk to her dorm-mates and Draco, he'd come to realise that she mattered to him, not just because of the assistance she provided or the bounty of her inheritance but because she was willingly offering to help him when needed.

When the door opened it revealed the unexpected figure of Filius Flitwick. Both Severus and Padma started to see the Charms Master in the dungeons. Severus couldn't remember the last time the Head of Ravenclaw had made his way down to the Potions lab. Severus hadn't even known that the man knew where they were.

"Severus," said Flitwick in way of greeting as he made is way into the lab. "I hope this is not a bad time. But the breakfast bell is about to sound, so I suspected that you would both be ready to stop about now."

Severus inclined his head regally, even as thoughts raced through his mind. What was going on?

"Good, good," said the diminutive man, even as he rubbed his hands together and moved further into their presence. "And I assume that anything that is said in this space is free of eavesdropping?"

Severus rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Yes, Filius. But perhaps we can adjourn to my office. It is more comfortable. Or perhaps," he sighed, "follow me."

Without preamble, Severus finished the last few things he needed to place in the hot water that filled the sink. Then, he walked to the far end of the Potions lab and tapped a confusing sequence of stones with the wand he had had hidden in his sleeve. The wall dissolved and an arched stone doorway formed. He turned to look at Flitwick and the young woman.

"Is Miss Patil's presence required?" Severus didn't know what this was about, he didn't want to antagonise someone who was an ally and someone who might well be about to enter into that category.

Filius beamed. "That depends entirely on how much you know my dear."

Padma blushed as her Head of House looked at her closely. She had trusted Professor Flitwick from the first. Taking a chance that he would not have come to the dungeons unless he meant to aid her and Severus, she nodded cautiously. "I think I know the important generalisations. Beyond that, I am still finding my way."

"A sensible and cautious response," said Filius approvingly. "In that case, yes, my dear, I think it would be wise if you sat in on this initial meeting. Later on, I shall leave it to your Potions Professor to fill you in in what he thinks you should know. Severus, is that acceptable?"

Severus inclined his head silently and indicated that his guests make themselves comfortable in his sitting-room.

Filius looked around the cosy chamber with interest as he took a seat on the low two seater sofa.

Padma was more careful of her interest and didn't make it an issue to look around as much. The last time she'd walked through this room she'd been completely focused on the injured man with her. But she could not stop her eyes from going to the wall of bookshelves and when she caught Severus' eyes, she shrugged ruefully and grinned up at him. She had been caught in her attempt at subtly.

Severus raised his eyebrows and took a seat on a faded velvet arm-chair.

Once Severus was seated, Padma took a seat on the broad stool that sat at right angles to the arm-chair and sofa so that she could look at both her professors. She was curious as to what this meeting was all about.

Severus felt a spear of delight at the deferential position of the young woman. A dark part of his psyche liked that she knew how to be submissive. For a man who had always craved power, especially now that he was so powerless, caught as he was between two mad-men, her show of bending to him fuelled his dark desires. But he buried that thought, just as he buried all other considerations. Going before the Dark Lord had trained him well in paying attention to the here and now.

"What can I do for you, Filius?" asked Severus baldly. He had no time to pussy-foot around. The old meddler would have seen Filius making his way down to the dungeons. Soon the old man would join them. He would bet his life on it.

Filius nodded. "Yes. Must get to the point immediately. Our esteemed Headmaster will be here soon, if your frown is anything to go by."

Severus raised his eyebrow in response.

"Yes, well, we can be agreed that I came to check on Miss Patil's progress and that we have now agreed that she will inform me if there are any future changes to her time-table. But for the moment she will be in the labs most mornings? Is that agreeable?"

Severus didn't like being managed, but he inclined his head. "And of course, the time this conversation took would stem from your being uncertain if that is not too much of a burden on our young protégée?"

"Splendid!" said Filius. "I do so love working with Slytherins. You think quickly and see things clearly."

Severus smirked. He wondered what the young woman listening wide-eyed to her two professors thought of all this management.

"I came really," said Filius, "to suggest that the sooner you start occlumency classes the better, my boy."

Severus' only prevented his surprise from showing from long practice. This was the last thing he had expected.

Filius met his eyes. "Just so. And besides the obvious need to train Miss Patil, may I suggest extending the invitation to Minerva?"

Severus eyes widened in shock. He couldn't help it. He supposed it was because no matter the consequences, he trusted the two Ravenclaws.

"Minnie has recently come to some startling news. She over-heard Nott and Malfoy discuss how they wanted to not be so closely affiliated to the Dark Lord. That they wanted a way out but couldn't trust you. Lucius is not sure where your loyalties lie, thought Malfoy was of the opinion, as was his mother, that you would do nothing to harm them."

Severus pressed the bridge of his nose to stop the pressure headache that was building. He'd not expected these tidings, not like this. So plainly spoken. So obviously supposed to be true.

Filius was not done. "Minnie came to me. Her foundations had been shaken and she needed to talk to someone she trusted, respected. I've done what I can. I've made her think, but she's a Gryffindor true and true. She is not good at subterfuge, or in keeping her thoughts to herself. Guidance would be welcome. And coming from you, it would help to cement the little band we seem to be building within these walls that do not see much difference in one megalomaniac or the other."

Filius paused. He seemed to hesitate before going on, as though he knew what he was going to suggest was not going to be accepted lightly. "And if, eventually, that training were to be extended to include young Master Malfoy, even perhaps young Master Nott, would that not help further facilitate a significant shifting of the guard?"

Severus had heard enough. "Why now Filius?" he demanded in agitation. Agitation he could mask through his face, but not his voice. "For over a decade I have been alone, unwanted, an unclean thing, and now suddenly, Miss Patil, you, as you suggest even Minerva want to, I don't know, support me and aid me? Why?"

"Perhaps," said the short man, "we finally realise that there is nothing to be done but prepare ourselves for the coming confrontation. But we will be damned if supporting the brining down of one mad-man only leads to another taking his place, however benign the regime he purports to establish."

* * *

><p>AN: Love it or hate it, please let me know what you think.


	21. Chapter 21

**Part XXI**

**Managing Ravenclaws**

* * *

><p>(i) The characters and world of Harry Potter are the property of J.K. Rowling. I make no money from this.<p>

(ii) Please read and review. I would love to know what you think of the story.

* * *

><p>Severus had just moved to the small kitchenette that lay off to the side of the sitting-room to brew some coffee when they heard Dumbledore's voice in the lab. He couldn't stop the sigh that emerged. The Headmaster had been expected, but he had so much to think of all of a sudden. He really didn't want to deal with the twinkler and play word games.<p>

"Shall I go and let him know we're here?" asked Padma softly. She could see from where she sat the fierce frown that had bloomed on the dark man's face.

"Yes, yes, might as well," he grumbled.

As she stood up and smoothed down her skirt and robes, Severus broke his perusal of her to address Filius. "Strong and black, five teaspoons of sugar, isn't that right?"

"You noticed?" asked the diminutive man with a twinkling smile. He had not missed the close observation the Slytherin had made of his student, but he knew Severus was a man of integrity. Miss Patil would be safe, unless she didn't want to be.

Severus smirked. "One must, or one is likely to be poisoned if one takes the wrong mug during staff meetings."

Filius chuckled. He and Severus were the only two in the staff to prefer their coffee black. Severus, of course, didn't take sugar.

Padma made her way out to the lab where she found Dumbledore looking through the potions and brews in progress. The sly look on the old man's face as she emerged from the archway to the private quarters was enough, if the conversation before hadn't been, to put her well on her guard.

"Good morning, Headmaster," she said as pleasantly as she could. "I'm sorry, but Professor Snape is speaking with Professor Flitwick right now. Can I be of help?"

Albus continued to twinkle slyly at her. "In his chambers already, my dear?"

Padma wanted to slap the bastard. "They are in the sitting-room sir." She complacently ignored the innuendo. He had no right to such familiarity of address.

Albus sighed. He was frustrated that everyone seemed to miss his attempts at suggesting Severus was fooling around with his young assistant. Even the young woman herself seemed immune. Perhaps it really was that Severus was a sexless monk-like figure when not acting under the forced auspices of the Dark Lord.

"Right, my dear, I'll just make my way there," he said, passing her on his way through the lab.

Padma did not say a word but followed the Headmaster back into the Potion Master's presence.

She entered to find the two teachers drinking coffee and looking at her time-table. She didn't even know where they had found a copy from.

Albus looked further disgruntled to see the two men pouring over the schedule. "Problems?" he asked in a hopeful voice he couldn't really mask. He didn't like that people seemed to be thinking for themselves of late. He had been furious to see Minerva visit the Head of Ravenclaw's chambers. Now here was the meddling dwarf visiting Severus.

"Not really," responded Filius cheerfully. "Miss Patil had spoken to me about brewing both during the evenings and the mornings when her homework allows such activities. But I was worried that she is trying to take on too much. Severus agrees." Here he turned to smile brightly at Padma, "We're sorry, my dear, but we both feel restricting your brewing to just the mornings is the right way to proceed. Then, if you really are able to manage things, and we should know that when your end of term exam results come in, we can re-evaluate your schedule."

Padma nodded. She bent her head as though she was disappointed to hide her smile. Her Head of House's cheerful tone of voice had really displeased the old meddler. "Whatever you think is best, Professor," she said quietly. Oh, if only her mother could hear her now. How demure she sounded. Thank goodness she could channel her sister-in-law at her most obsequious.

Filius nodded amiably. "Good girl. And if you do have extra time on your hands, I'm sure Severus here can give you reading to do, or perhaps utilise your skills for marking the first year essays."

Severus inclined his head. "We'll see." He wanted to grin like a Gryffindor at the way Filius was managing the conversation. He'd not had to do a thing.

* * *

><p>That evening Padma didn't return to the Common-Room after dinner. Instead, she parted company from Morag and made her way to the library. She'd made sure she'd stopped fairly close to the Slytherin table to explain to Morag that she really had to do some research into beautification charm-work. "My sister keeps bugging me to take an interest and if I don't, you know she'll try to gang up on me with Lavender."<p>

Morag shuddered. The studious Ravenclaw was suitably unimpressed. "Well I've got better ways to spend my time. You're on your own."

Padma laughed. "Some friend."

Morag grinned. "Unlike you, I've got to finish my Arithmancy essay. I don't know how you manage to wake up so early every morning to ensure everything not completed in the evenings is done."

Padma laughed again. "I'm a lark, not an owl. Waking up isn't that hard for me."

As Morag and she parted company Padma quickly scanned the Slytherin table. She had planned the little conversation well. She saw Draco and Theo, who were sitting not too far away perk up at her walking away alone towards the exit of the Great Hall.

Once in the library, she immediately went to the Charms sections and pulled out a few books on old-fashioned fashion, beauty and feminine adornment charms. It was stuff that people like her sister always failed to utilise, prefering to resort to the tips in _Witch Weekly_, but she'd never really paid the magazine much heed. But if she was to make herself approachable to Malfoy and his friends, she'd have to appear completely harmless. Researching something so obviously frivolous and feminine was the right way to go.

As she moved to a quiet alcove at the back of the library, she hoped the spot she had chosen was not too out of the way. She didn't want to sit at the front, nothing too obvious, but she also didn't want them to not find her. Hoping she'd not been too clever, she pulled out a long piece of parchment, quill and ink and began leafing through the books she'd chosen.

Surprisingly, some of the charms were rather interesting. There was one that was designed to give a witch an up-swept psyche knot that was reminiscent of the Mucha style that she thought might actually look good on her.

Padma hadn't actually expected to find something useful. Generally what she'd seen her twin and Lavender attempt just made them look overly made up. Glad it wasn't going to be a totally wasteful evening, she began copying out the instructions for wand movements and incantation. She could try it out when she got back to her dorm-room. If things went in the direction she thought they would, she'd need to be able to fit into the Slytherin social scene soon enough. It was the easiest way for them to check her out with taking her in front of the Dark Lord.

She'd just finished the task, and was turning to look at another charm further into the book when she heard foot-steps approaching her quiet hide-away.

She looked up, just in time to see Draco Malfoy sauntering towards her.

She smiled slightly. She knew she had to play this really cautiously. Too friendly and they would know something was up.

Draco inclined his head regally.

Padma couldn't help it, she blushed. Which was really, the best response anyway, she told herself. He'd be flattered that she was so susceptible to the Malfoy charm.

* * *

><p>Draco and Theo had discussed how to proceed with Padma Patil since their conversation. They'd been delighted when they'd over-heard her plans to go to the library. Now, Draco smirked at how easily he had disarmed her and smoothly approached the table.<p>

"Research?" he asked majestically.

Padma shrugged. "My sister keeps going on that I am not taking an interest in my appearance. One of these days she says she's going to corner me and tart me up. So, to appease her and not end up looking like Lavender Brown's version of an exotic bird, here I am."

Draco chuckled. It was a laugh he'd learned from his father and it sounded dark and dangerous to his ears. To Padma, it just sounded like he was trying a bit too hard. But then, she supposed, given what Professor Flitwick had said to Severus this morning, sounding dark and dangerous was important if they wanted to stay alive amidst the shifting sands of the times.

She smiled at him and he took a seat across from her at the table. He leaned over to read her parchment. He looked up to meet her gaze and smirked.

She laughed and gently pushed his hand away from her notes. "Boys are lucky. You don't need to do so much. It's really unfair that girls are judged by their appearances."

Draco snorted. "Everyone gets judged on their appearance. Not just girls. If I didn't take care of how I dressed, how I carried myself, I'd be ignored and made a fool off."

This was a surprisingly candid and honest thing for the Slytherin to say. He seemed a little shocked at his own words and frowned. "Are you using some kind of spell? How did you get me to say that?" His wand was out and pointing at her in seconds.

Padma shook her head. "I've done nothing. But Malfoy, Draco, I'm not a," she sighed, "you know, for the other lot. You know, that lot."

Draco frowned. "I don't trust you."

Padma sighed. This was too candid a discussion. She had been planning for subtle dancing around the topic. "I don't think we should talk here. Do you mind if we go to the dungeons? Might be safer."

"You would...," began Draco before stopping to frown at her again. "Come on, then."

She gathered the books together and debated checking them out. They'd served their purpose and yet, she was a Ravenclaw. Now that she'd begun a project, she hated not completing it. And the one charm she had found would be useful.

Draco watched her debating taking the books and laughed. She looked up to meet his clear grey eyes.

He shook his head at her and scooped up the books. Then, when she starred in alarm at him, he grinned and began walking. "Don't forget your book bag, Patil."

Padma had very little contact with the Slytherins. This Draco was different to the boy she'd seen in the Great Hall or in the corridors. She seemed to have successfully breached the first defensive wall with no understanding how that had happened.

But she wasn't going to let him get away. This was important. Swallowing the sigh that wanted to emerge, she tided up the parchment, ink and quill, packed her bag and followed the blond. He'd already reached Pince's desk and was checking out the books for her. It was the kind of thing boyfriends did for their girls. If Pansy saw him, Padma was going to be in trouble. Unless, of course, the dark-haired Slytherin knew what was going on too. Even more puzzled, intrigued, she let him finish the task and followed him down into the dungeons.

* * *

><p>AN: Love it or hate it, please let me know what you think.


	22. Chapter 22

**Part XXII**

**In the dungeons**

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><p>(i) The characters and world of Harry Potter are the property of J.K. Rowling. I make no money from this.<p>

(ii) Please read and review. I would love to know what you think of the story.

* * *

><p>Padma followed the blond out of the library. She even, without murmur, took the elbow he pro-offered and with a cautious look into his eyes, slipped her hand through it. They didn't speak of anything much, just the recent worsening weather.<p>

Padma wondered what was going on. This was blatant behaviour for a Slytherin. Were they trying to wind up Dumbledore? If he was spying on all the students, watching her walk arm in arm with Malfoy was going to get his goat. Perhaps that was the plan.

She sighed softly.

Malfoy turned to look at her. "Worried."

"Should I be?" she asked in a low voice.

He responded just as quietly. "Not yet." But the words weren't meant to ease her worry. There was something dangerous in his intonation.

She giggled. She couldn't help it. It was the only way to defuse the fear that was gripping her. She felt instinctively that they were going to get this game, this mad, desperately important game, wrong.

She also realised as she thought back that Draco had tried, unsuccessfully to sound like his Head of House. But Draco was a long way away from Severus' silken menace of a whisper. And yet the beginnings of that menace, that danger was there.

They didn't thankfully pass any Gryffindor or Ravenclaw students as they made their way down the main stone stairs to the dungeons though some of the Hufflepuffs gasped to see her with Malfoy. She knew the gossips would be wondering and making up tall tales about this stroll. And yet, for all intents and purposes, it was the most polite of walks, reminiscent of an old-fashioned courtier walking his lady.

She could almost hear her sister's screeched demands to know what was going on.

Once in the dungeons, he paused and looked around. "How brave are you?"

Padma shrugged. "Not very, but I can channel my sister and try and act like her when need be."

Draco chuckled darkly again. Here in the dungeons, it didn't sound so put on. It made her shiver.

That pleased him, she could see it immediately in the way his eyes brightened. "Channel her now," he said imperiously as he began walking once more.

She nodded her head. She had agreed to this. She'd see it through.

* * *

><p>Padma gasped as they entered, what was obviously, the Slytherin Common Room. She starred in wonder at the opulently decorated area, even as she watched the sudden stillness that came over the gathered students at her presence.<p>

But Draco pretended not to even notice the reactions. With a swagger that was all sex and machismo, the Prince of Slytherin led her with a smirk down some side stairs. "These lead to the dormitories. But unlike the rest of you lot, only Slytherin firsties share a room. We've all got our own."

She hadn't heard that. "You lucky things," she said in appreciation. "It's hard sharing a space."

She knew everyone in the Common Room would be assuming that Draco had brought her to his room for sex. It had been obvious by the few sniggered comments that had followed them down.

"You a virgin?" asked Draco suddenly as they continued to walk down a long corridor.

"Yes," Padma said defiantly, "and I plan to stay that way until I'm bound to my wizard."

"Excellent," said a cool female voice.

Padma swung round to see Pansy Parkinson smirking as she emerged from a hidden doorway.

"Come in, both of you, quickly."

Draco pushed Padma in and followed the two girls into what was obviously a bedroom. A feminine bedroom if the lace counterpoint and satin drapes in palest pink was any indication.

Padma couldn't stop the sigh of relief that left her. "Thank Durga that you know. I was dreading having to encounter you in the halls or something and have you accuse me of trying to steal him."

Pansy laughed at that. "Sit. Draco, get Theo will you."

* * *

><p>Draco nodded and left the room via what turned out to be another hidden doorway. The dungeons seemed to be riddled with secret passages and doors. Padma couldn't stop herself from commenting. "It's great that you can move about without the others knowing what you're on about."<p>

Pansy nodded. "When the rooms were allocated, me, Draco and Theo ensured we got these ones. They are all interconnected. We just let the others assume it was because of the sexual games we like to play." She arranged herself on the bed seductively and preened. "Most don't know about the other secret passage ways. They just know a few. But when I became a prefect I got Professor Snape to allow me to research the blueprint of the student quarters. Helped us find lots of useful hidden away doors, stairs, exits. I know he uses some of them himself."

Anyone who entered the room would assume Padma had been invited to join Draco and his known paramour in some sexual perversity. It was brilliant. But extremely dangerous. "I won't be able to have this get back to my parents. We are very strict about virginity. If they even assume I've been compromised I'll be packed off to India and married off before you can say Jack's your uncle."

"Shit," said Theo as he and Draco entered the room. "Didn't think of that."

Draco sat on the bed and put his arm around Pansy. "Any other brilliant ideas?"

"I run from here weeping?" suggested Padma. "Everyone will assume I was a gullible fool and they'll give me plenty of sympathetic looks while sniggering at my foolishness in thinking you'd be doing anything but toying with me. I'll beg my sister not to write to our parents, telling her truthfully that nothing happened and that it was only when we got to your room that you said what you really wanted was a threesome. How does that sound?"

Theo laughed. "Oh, excellent."

"But we need to talk too. I'm not spying for them, truly I'm not. But I'm not a plant by your side and your Lord either. I'm neutral. And I know things. Let's find another way to talk more. Now I have to go."

Pansy nodded. "I'll follow you out, trying to stop you from causing a scene. Begging you not to leave."

* * *

><p>The little pantomime that followed would have been funny if its outcome was not so important. Padma cried shocked tears, and ran, heedlessly pushing past students. Pansy followed, still in the silk negligee she'd had on. She'd even untied the robe, so that more of her assets could be seen for verisimilitude.<p>

At the entrance to the Common Room the Slytherin caught up with Padma who did a really impressive act of looking lost, bewildered and terrified. "Darling," cooed Pansy, sliding her arm suggestively around Padma's waist. "I'm sorry we frightened you. We didn't expect you to be so untouched. Untutored. But really poppet, innocence is so seductive. You must know Draco and I would delight in debauching you utterly. You'll love it too."

Padma shuddered. "I can't Pansy. Really, I can't. My parents would marry me off to some ancient man in some hideous village in the middle of nowhere if they found out. I have to stay pure. Please. I didn't know this was what Draco meant. He was so charming and he was so insistent that I'd nothing to worry about because you'd be there that I came with him."

"Oh, poppet. You're so sweet," said Pansy with saccharine sentiment. "Oh well." she sighed dramatically and ensured that the two seventh-year boys, who were the only current occupants in the Common Room, got an eyeful of her heaving breasts. "Off you go then. But if you change your mind, the invitation is always open."

Padma blushed. She'd no idea the Slytherins were so blasé about sex. Nothing like this happened in the Ravenclaw Common Room.

* * *

><p>Padma walked with as much dignity as she could out of the dungeons. She realised she'd left her bag and the library books in Pansy's room. She sighed. She had to get the homework for tomorrow back. She was turning around, trying to psyche herself to go back when Theo emerged out of the entrance.<p>

"Pansy and Draco send their regards," he said with a superior tone, even as he offered her the bag he'd slung around his shoulder. Her books, the books Draco had checked out, floated gently in a pile behind him.

"Thanks," she said in a huff. "Oh, Tara," she moaned. "We are in so much trouble."

"Indeed," came the silky menacing growl of the Head of Slytherin House. "What in the bloody name of Merlin were you thinking. In my office now. You, too, Mr. Nott."

Theo and Padma looked at each other in alarm.

They almost ran to keep up with the rapid pace set by the Dark Wizard. Anyone seeing them scurried away like mice. He caught sight of a tiny third year. "You, yes you, Ravensberg, inform Mr. Malfoy and Miss Parkinson that they are wanted in my office immediately."

The boy nodded, relived he only had to deliver and message and ran off. Apparently the rule for no running in the corridors didn't apply when on a mission from their Head of House.

They had just entered the office when Padma stopped worrying about what Theodore Nott, Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy were going to think. Her first loyalty was to Severus. Her Severus. She cleared her mind, pushed the memories relating to tonight's fiasco and reached out without fear to grab the Potion Master's hand. He turned, furious, his eyes blazing, to fling her away, but she'd already turned to meet his gaze. "Look. See. Please," she implored, offering her eyes, her memories to him. She knew Theo would see in it the same form of relationship that the Dark Lord had with his followers, but it could not be helped.

Severus was so angry, so distraught that he dived in, not stopping to give thought or concern to the young woman before him. He pushed, and with almost the sense that she was really glad he'd taken her offer, found himself inside her mind. She kept pushing memories, thoughts, deductions at him, until he felt bombarded with knowledge. He watched the plan, he watched the confrontation with Pansy outside the bedroom, their plan for extracting her out of Slytherin. At last, he saw her talk to Nott and then he was out, but not before he caught the thought she quickly tried to hide, that the only wizard she ever planned to bind herself to was him.

They stood there, a tableau of shock, surprise and fear when Draco and Pansy entered the still open door of the Office.

Severus seemed to pull himself together. "Come in, and shut the bloody door."

"You," he pointed to Padma, "not another bloody word. You three, what the hell were you thinking. If word of what you pulled gets back to Dumbledore or her parents, she'll be out of school before we can say Salazar Slytherin."

The three Slytherin students looked sheepishly at their Head of House. Padma starred in astonishment. If anyone else but Severus was addressing them, they'd have looked like arrogant berks. Instead, they looked like normal teens pulled up by someone they utterly respected.

"Miss Patil is my assistant. She is now, from this moment on, if you idiots didn't know it before, an honorary Slytherin. Ours to protect, ours to defend. From the idiots in Gryffindor Tower, from anyone else who would besmirch her name." He growled as he threw himself into his chair. "Other than for the Slytherins, who else saw you bring her to the dungeons?"

Draco stepped forward. "Just a few tiny Hufflepuffs. No one from our year or those above."

Severus stroked his nose. "Purebloods, halfbloods or muggle-born?"

Draco frowned. "Not sure, sir."

"Miss Patil, did you see who the students were?" Severus turned to her and demanded.

Padma shook her head. "Can you check?" she asked, coming to stand before him.

Severus looked at her. "You can't go offering me your mind every time I have a question," he growled at her. "Have you no self respect?"

"Of course I do," asserted Padma. "But we messed up and I didn't mean to make things more complicated. If you know everything, you can think of something to mitigate the damage. I trust you."

The three students looked alarmed, but Theo most probably the least so. He'd after all seen her offering her mind to the Dark Wizard already.

Severus sighed. He was tired. So tired. But he looked into the young woman's beautiful dark eyes, eyes the colour of the richest, darkest chocolate and slipped in to her mind as easily as falling into warm liquid silk. There was no resistance, no hiding anything. She showed him again, doing her best to go slowly, the walk from the library to the dungeons.

Severus observed the students carefully. Yes, four fourth-years and two third-years. No seniors. And all of them thankfully either purebloods or half-bloods. There were so few Muggle-borns each year anyway that it would have been a surprise if it had been so.

He sighed again as he slipped out of her thoughts. "All of you," he said grimly, "will start Occlumency training from tonight onwards. There's enough books in the library to get you started, but I will begin training sessions myself. Twice a week, and if I can't manage it, I'll ask Filius to help. Not another word. We are on the same side. The side that wants to survive this bloody coming confrontation."

Severus looked at his four students squarely in the face. The time for deception was over. He had the coming months before Yule to prepare this little bunch of meddling morons. "Am I wrong?"

* * *

><p>AN: Love it or hate it, please let me know what you think.


	23. Chapter 23

**Part XXIII**

**Plans into Actions**

* * *

><p>(i) The characters and world of Harry Potter are the property of J.K. Rowling. I make no money from this.<p>

(ii) Please read and review. I would love to know what you think of the story.

* * *

><p>When Padma finally made her way to the Ravenclaw Common-Room it was well passed the hour of curfew. She didn't even try to hide the fact that she was leaving the dungeons. She knew people would be talking. Better they assume she was returning after a detention or punishment than wonder what else had taken place that night.<p>

The candid discussion that that had taken place following the débâcle in the Slytherin Common-Room had been useful. The three Slytherin students now well aware of the role they had to play in ensuring the reactions from the rest of the school were those that were in keeping with their future plans.

Severus had, indeed, come up with the plan they were all going to execute. Padma sighed as she entered her dorm-room. She could see Moran peering out from between the curtains of her four-poster.

"What happened?" Morag inquired, her voice infused with worry.

Padma shrugged, even as she laid her things on the side table and began unpacking her book bag. That done, she kicked off her shoes, and then, came to sit on her friend's bed. "I was successful, at least in getting Malfoy to talk to me. But you know them, he kind of dared me to follow him to the Slytherin Common-Room and then tried to do their whole dark, dangerous and predatory act on me. I left as fast as I could and Professor Snape caught us. He was furious. I'm him assistant, an honorary Slytherin, not someone for them to toy with, or so he said."

Morag chewed her bottom lip while she digested Padma's explanation. "Da always did say he was a possessive man. He wouldn't want anything to take you away from him."

Padma nodded. "I need to get ready for bed. Wait up for me?"

"You don't have to ask," said the other girl.

Later, they pulled the covers over themselves to ward off the night-time chill and talked further. Padma had to ensure that her closest friend didn't think anything of her suddenly being on good terms with the Slytherins. It needed to go back to the Dark Lord, and of course, the Gryffindors that her being an honorary Slytherin meant that Malfoy and thus, his hangers on, now treated her cordially.

* * *

><p>Harry nudged Hermione and Ron as Malfoy openly walked towards the Ravenclaw table in the Great Hall the next morning and placed a small parcel in front of Padma Patil's plate.<p>

Hermione set down her mug of tea and leaned closer to watch, as Padma obviously on good terms with the blond, smiled and began delicately opening the token.

Everyone, or so it seemed to Padma was observing her as she carefully unwrapped the silver paper and lifted the lid off the slim box to pull out the obviously expensive Slytherin green scarf. It wasn't the kind of thing worn in school, but it was of the snobbish house's colours.

Gently, she examined the lush fabric and then, with a nod of acknowledgement to the still standing blond, wrapped it around her neck. She knew her publicly accepting this meant that it looked like she was declaring her inclusion into the house of Salazar.

Once Draco sauntered off, a sneer firmly placed on his face at the gawking onlookers, Padma calmly began buttering a slice of toast.

Eventually, the din of the gossiping hall allowed her to talk to Morag who was sitting as was generally the case, next to her.

Morag had known that the Slytherins would make a public declaration of her inclusion, at least honorary, in their house. But even she was wide eyed at this dramatically done display.

But the real test was yet to come. Padma knew her twin would be waiting to get to the bottom of the drama just enacted.

She didn't have to wait long. A couple of minutes later, Parvati's slim form nudged her twin aside and squeezed herself between the two friends.

"What in Merlin's name is going on?" Parvati demanded. "Harry's going on and on about me being a spy, that you aren't going to come back to you-know-what because you're obviously one of them."

Padma sighed. "Seriously, behen? Harry's an idiot. I'm helping Professor Snape. Obviously the Slytherins are going to acknowledge me as an honorary member if I'm officially their Head of House's assistant. You know what pureblood codes of honour and etiquette are like."

Morag nodded her head even as Parvati frowned.

"You know she's right," said Morag into the silence. "I mean, remember when Cedric was doing that work for Professor Flitwick. He got that special bookmark in Ravenclaw colours and was allowed to use the Ravenclaw Common-Room if he wanted to. That's how he and Cho used to spend time together. He'd come up and they'd sit and study together."

Parvati grimaced. But she couldn't refute what Morag was saying. Eventually, she just sighed. "Just talk to Hermione, please. Harry's not going to listen, but at least she will. And for goodness' sakes warn me if things like this are going to happen."

Padma nudged her twin. "Like I would know how the Slytherin mind works. All I knew was that they would acknowledge me in some way. I just thought I'd get a bit of a nod or two as I passed them in the corridors. Not this over-the-top production."

Mollified, at least for the moment, Parvati eventually departed to narrate what she had learned to her house-mates. Now the real test would come. Would everyone accept the story they had concocted.

Their one comfort, was that what happened in Slytherin stayed in Slytherin. No one outside the house would know that Draco and Pansy had tried something with Padma. The publicly done display would to them appear to be the punishment demanded of their house-mates by their Head of House.

* * *

><p>Severus sipped his bitter brew of coffee and watched the idiots play out their assigned roles. Even he had to give Parkinson credit for her ingenuity in thinking up the publicly done admission of his assistant into the rarefied company of Slytherin. It was she who had finally decided that getting it done over breakfast at the Great Hall was the easiest and best way of getting the entire school to see the Slytherins attitude to Padma's position.<p>

Minerva's indrawn breath, followed by shocked gasp at Padma wearing Slytherin colours was followed almost immediately by Filius' soft chuckle of appreciation. He knew his allies were thinking of what that public display meant.

But it was Dumbledore's reaction he was waiting for. Albus didn't disappoint. The black frown he tried to hide by twinkling merrily like a loon and congratulating Severus on his latest Slytherin was poorly done.

But again, Severus was saved from responding to his superior's taunts. It was Filius who stepped into the breach and congratulated Severus on the superbly done welcome. "So nice to see old traditions being upheld," said the diminutive professor genially. "Etiquette and manners are so important. And the gift was worthy of their acknowledgement of what her time and assistance means to you."

Minerva, taking her cue from Filius, nodded. "Yes. Young people today often forget how important tradition is. Lovely demonstration. But then your Slytherins are big on demonstrations."

The dig, though slight, Severus knew was meant to appease Dumbledore. He would expect sour grapes, even disapproval and dismissal of the old ways from his supposed protégée. For her to say anything less would be unacceptable.

Severus responded as was his way. With silence. He let them come to their own conclusions about what had happened. The goal they had set themselves was achieved. The way was paved for Padma to associate freely with his Slytherins.

* * *

><p>AN: Love it or hate it, please let me know what you think.


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